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A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


AUTHOR'S  NOTE 

TO  THE 
REVISED,  FIFTH  EDITION 

The  attention  of  those  who  may  have 
read  an  earlier  edition  of  "A  Mind 
That  Found  Itself"  is  invited  to  the 
alterations  in  this  revision.  Except  for 
some  rephrasing  and  the  addition  of 
several  incidents,  the  narrative  stands 
as  before.  But  I  have  omitted  vari- 
ous digressions,  amounting  to  about 
seventy-five  pages,  which  perforce  inter- 
rupted the  main  story.  These  passages, 
having  served  their  original  purpose, 
now  properly  disappear. 

Interesting  letters  from  eminent 
people  and  an  autobiographical  account 
of  important  work  that  has  grown  out 
of  the  publication  of  this  book,  follow 
the  conclusion  of  my  story.  These  sup- 
plementary pages  form  the  basis  of  a 
second   book  that  I  intend  some  day 

to  publish. 

C.  W.  B. 


A    MIND    THAT 
FOUND    ITSELF 

AN  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 


BY 

CLIFFORD  WHITTINGHAM  BEERS 


FIFTH  EDITION 


LONGMANS,   GREEN  AND   CO. 

FOURTH  AVENUE  13  30th  STREET,  NEW  YORK 

39    PATERNOSTER    ROW,    LONDON 

BOMBAY,  CALCUTTA,  AND  MADRAS 

1921 


"2  a  f 


COPYRIGHT,  1907,  I917  AND  1921,  BY 

CLIFFORD  WHITTINGHAM  BEERS 

All  rights  reserved 


First  edition.  March,  1908 

Second  edition,  with  additions,  June,  1910 

Reprinted,  November,  1912 

Third  edition  revised,  March,  1913 

Reprinted,  September,  1913 

Reprinted,  July,  1914 

Fourth  edition  revised,  March,  1917 

Reprinted,  February,  1920 
Fifth  edition  revised,  October,  1921 


o 


in 
Ln 
en 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  MY  UNCLE 
SAMUEL  EDWIN  MERWIN 

WHOSE  TIMELY  GENEROSITY  I  BELIEVE  SAVED  MY  LIFE, 

AND    WHOSE    DEATH    HAS    FOREVER    ROBBED 

ME    OF    A    SATISFYING    OPPORTUNITY 

TO     PROVE    MY     GRATITUDE 


From  a  Letter  to  the  Author 

You  have  handled  a  difficult  theme  with  great 
skill,  and  produced  a  narrative  of  absorbing 
interest  to  scientist  as  well  as  layman.  It 
reads  like  fiction,  but  it  is  not  fiction;  and  this 
I  state  emphatically,  knowing  how  prone  the 
uninitiated  are  to  doubt  the  truthfulness  of 
descriptions  of  abnormal  mental  processes. 

William  James 


A  Mind  That  Found  Itself 


This  story  is  derived  from  as  human  a  document  as 
ever  existed;  and,  because  of  its  uncommon  nature,  per- 
haps no  one  thing  contributes  so  much  to  its  value  as  its 
authenticity.  It  is  an  autobiography,  and  more :  in  part 
it  is  a  biography;  for,  in  telling  the  story  of  my  life,  I  must 
relate  the  history  of  another  self — a  self  which  was  dom- 
inant from  my  twenty-fourth  to  my  twenty-sixth  year. 
During  that  period  I  was  unlike  what  I  had  been,  or 
what  I  have  been  since.  The  biographical  part  of  my 
autobiography  might  be  called  the  history  of  a  men- 
tal civil  war,  which  I  fought  single-handed  on  a  battle- 
field that  lay  within  the  compass  of  my  skull.  An  Army 
of  Unreason,  composed  of  the  cunning  and  treacherous 
thoughts  of  an  unfair  foe,  attacked  my  bewildered  con- 
sciousness with  cruel  persistency,  and  would  have  de- 
stroyed me,  had  not  a  triumphant  Reason  finally  inter- 
posed a  superior  strategy  that  saved  me  from  my  un- 
natural self. 

I  am  not  telling  the  story  of  my  life  just  to  write  a  book. 
I  tell  it  because  it  seems  my  plain  duty  to  do  so.     A  nar- 


2  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

row  escape  from  death  and  a  seemingly  miraculous  re- 
turn to  health  after  an  apparently  fatal  illness  are  enough 
to  make  a  man  ask  himself:  For  what  purpose  was  my 
life  spared?  That  question  I  have  asked  myself,  and 
this  book  is,  in  part,  an  answer. 


I  was  born  shortly  after  sunset  about  thirty  years  ago. 
My  ancestors,  natives  of  England,  settled  in  this  country 
not  long  after  the  Mayflower  first  sailed  into  Plymouth 
Harbor.  And  the  blood  of  these  ancestors,  by  time  and 
the  happy  union  of  a  Northern  man  and  a  Southern 
woman — my  parents — has  perforce  been  blended  into 
blood  truly  American. 

The  first  years  of  my  life  were,  in  most  ways,  not  un- 
like those  of  other  American  boys,  except  as  a  tendency 
to  worry  made  them  so.  Though  the  fact  is  now 
difficult  for  me  to  believe,  I  was  painfully  shy.  When 
first  I  put  on  short  trousers,  I  felt  that  the  eyes  of  the 
world  were  on  me;  and  to  escape  them  I  hid  behind 
convenient  pieces  of  furniture  while  in  the  house  and, 
so  I  am  told,  even  sidled  close  to  fences  when  I  walked 
along  the  street.  With  my  shyness  there  was  a  degree 
of  self-consciousness  which  put  me  at  a  disadvantage 
in  any  family  or  social  gathering.  I  talked  little  and 
was  ill  at  ease  when  others  spoke  to  me. 

Like  many  other  sensitive  and  somewhat  introspect- 
ive children,  I  passed  through  a  brief  period  of  morbid 
righteousness.  In  a  game  of  "  one-old-cat,"  the  side  on 
which  I  played  was  defeated.    On  a  piece  of  scantling 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  3 

which  lay  in  the  lot  where  the  contest  took  place,  I 
scratched  the  score.  Afterwards  it  occurred  to  me  that 
my  inscription  was  perhaps  misleading  and  would  make 
my  side  appear  to  be  the  winner.  I  went  back  and  cor- 
rected the  ambiguity.  On  finding  in  an  old  tool  chest  at 
home  a  coin  or  medal,  on  which  there  appeared  the  text, 
"Put  away  the  works  of  darkness  and  put  on  the  armour 
of  light,"  my  sense  of  religious  propriety  was  offended. 
It  seemed  a  sacrilege  to  use  in  this  way  such  a  high  senti- 
ment, so  I  destroyed  the  coin. 

I  early  took  upon  myself,  mentally  at  least,  many  of 
the  cares  and  worries  of  those  about  me.  Whether  in 
this  I  was  different  from  other  youngsters  who  de- 
velop a  ludicrous,  though  pathetic,  sense  of  respon- 
sibility for  the  universe,  I  do  not  know.  But  in  my  case 
the  most  extreme  instance  occurred  during  a  business 
depression,  when  the  family  resources  were  endangered. 
I  began  to  fear  that  my  father  (than  whom  a  more  hope- 
ful man  never  lived)  might  commit  suicide. 

After  all,  I  am  not  sure  that  the  other  side  of  my  nature 
— the  natural,  healthy,  boyish  side — did  not  develop 
equally  with  these  timid  and  morbid  tendencies,  which 
are  not  so  very  uncommon  in  childhood.  Certainly  the 
natural,  boyish  side  was  more  in  evidence  on  the  sur- 
face. I  was  as  good  a  sport  as  any  of  my  playfellows 
in  such  games  as  appealed  to  me,  and  I  went  a-fishing 
when  the  chance  offered.  None  of  my  associates  thought 
of  me  as  being  shy  or  morose.  But  this  was  because  I 
masked  my  troubles,  though  quite  unconsciously,  under 
a  camouflage  of  sarcasm  and  sallies  of  wit,  or,  at  least, 


4  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

what  seemed  to  pass  for  wit  among  my  immature  ac- 
quaintances. With  grown-ups,  I  was  at  times  inclined  to 
be  pert,  my  degree  of  impudence  depending  no  doubt 
upon  how  ill  at  ease  I  was  and  how  perfectly  at  ease  I 
wished  to  appear.  Because  of  the  constant  need  for 
appearing  happier  than  I  really  was,  I  developed  a  knack 
for  saying  things  in  an  amusing,  sometimes  an  epigram- 
matic, way.  I  recall  one  remark  made  long  before  I  could 
possibly  have  heard  of  Mai  thus  or  have  understood  his 
theory  regarding  birth  rate  and  food  supply.  Ours  being 
a  large  family  of  limited  means  and,  among  the  five  boys 
of  the  family,  unlimited  appetites,  we  often  used  the 
cheaper,  though  equally  nutritious,  cuts  of  meat.  On 
one  occasion  when  the  steak  was  tougher  than  usual,  I 
epitomized  the  Malthusian  theory  by  remarking:  "I 
believe  in  fewer  children  and  better  beefsteak!" 

One  more  incident  of  my  boyhood  days  may  assist  the 
reader  to  make  my  acquaintance.  In  my  early  teens  I 
was,  for  one  year,  a  member  of  a  boy  choir.  Barring 
my  voice,  I  was  a  good  chorister,  and,  like  all  good  choir- 
boys, I  was  distinguished  by  that  seraphic  passiveness 
from  which  a  reaction  of  some  kind  is  to  be  expected  im- 
mediately after  a  service  or  rehearsal.  On  one  occasion 
this  reaction  in  me  manifested  itself  in  a  fist  fight  with 
a  fellow  choir-boy.  Though  I  cannot  recall  the  time 
when  I  have  not  relished  verbal  encounters,  physical  en- 
counters had  never  been  to  my  taste,  and  I  did  not  seek 
this  fight.  My  assailant  really  goaded  me  into  it.  If 
the  honors  were  not  mine,  at  least  I  must  have  acquitted 
myself  creditably,  for  an  interested  passer-by  made  a 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  5 

remark  which  I  have  never  forgotten.  "That  boy  is  all 
right  after  he  gets  started,"  he  said.  About  twelve  years 
later  I  did  get  started,  and  could  that  passer-by  have 
seen  me  on  any  one  of  several  occasions,  he  would  have 
had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  his  was  a  prophetic 
eye. 

At  the  usual  age,  I  entered  a  public  grammar  school 
in  New  Haven,  Connecticut,  where  I  graduated  in  1891. 
In  the  fall  of  that  year  I  entered  the  High  School 
of  the  same  city.  My  school  courses  were  completed 
with  as  little  trouble  as  scholastic  distinction.  I 
always  managed  to  gain  promotion,  however,  when  it 
was  due;  and,  though  few  of  my  teachers  credited  me 
with  real  ability,  they  were  always  able  to  detect  a 
certain  latent  capacity,  which  they  evidently  believed 
would  one  day  develop  sufficiently  to  prevent  me  from 
disgracing  them. 

Upon  entering  the  High  School  I  had  such  ambitions 
as  any  schoolboy  is  apt  to  have.  I  wished  to  secure  an 
election  to  a  given  secret  society;  that  gained,  I  wished 
to  become  business  manager  of  a  monthly  magazine 
published  by  that  society.  In  these  ambitions  I  suc- 
ceeded. For  one  of  my  age  I  had  more  than  an  average 
love  of  business.  Indeed,  I  deliberately  set  about  learn- 
ing to  play  the  guitar  well  enough  to  become  elig- 
ible for  membership  in  the  Banjo  Club — and  this  for 
no  more  aesthetic  purpose  than  to  place  myself  in  line 
for  the  position  of  manager,  to  which  I  was  later  elected. 

In  athletics  there  was  but  one  game,  tennis,  in  which 
I    was    actively    interested.     Its    quick    give-and-take 


6  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

suited  my  temperament,  ana  so  fond  was  I  of  it  that 
during  one  summer  I  played  not  fewer  than  four  thousand 
games.  As  I  had  an  aptitude  for  tennis  and  devoted 
more  time  to  it  than  did  any  of  my  schoolmates,  it  was 
not  surprising  that  I  acquired  skill  enough  to  win  the 
school  championship  during  my  senior  year.  But  that 
success  was  not  due  entirely  to  my  superiority  as  a  player. 
It  was  due  in  part  to  what  I  considered  unfair  treatment; 
and  the  fact  well  illustrates  a  certain  trait  of  character 
which  has  often  stood  me  in  good  stead.  Among  the 
spectators  at  the  final  match  of  the  tournament  were 
several  girls.  These  schoolmates,  who  lived  in  my 
neighborhood,  had  mistaken  for  snobbishness  a  certain 
boyish  diffidence  for  which  few  people  gave  me  credit. 
When  we  passed  each  other,  almost  daily,  this  group  of 
girls  and  I,  our  mutual  sign  of  recognition  was  a  look  in 
an  opposite  direction.  Now  my  opponent  was  well 
liked  by  these  same  girls  and  was  entitled  to  their  sup- 
port. Accordingly  they  applauded  his  good  plays,  which 
was  fair.  They  did  not  applaud  my  good  plays,  which 
was  also  fair.  But  what  was  not  fair  was  that  they 
should  applaud  my  bad  plays.  Their  doing  so  roiled 
my  blood,  and  thanks  to  those  who  would  have  had  me 
lose,  I  won. 

In  June,  1894,  I  received  a  high  school  diploma. 
Shortly  afterwards  I  took  my  examinations  for  Yale,  and 
the  following  September  entered  the  Sheffield  Scientific 
School,  in  a  non-technical  course. 

The  last  week  of  June,  1894,  was  an  important  one  in 
my  life.     An  event  then  occurred  which  undoubtedly 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  7 

changed  my  career  completely.  It  was  the  direct  cause 
of  my  mental  collapse  six  years  later,  and  of  the  distress- 
ing and,  in  some  instances,  strange  and  delightful  expe- 
riences on  which  this  book  is  based.  The  event  was  the 
illness  of  an  older  brother,  who,  late  in  June,  1894,  was 
stricken  with  what  was  thought  to  be  epilepsy.  Few  dis- 
eases can  so  disorganize  a  household  and  distress  its  mem- 
bers. My  brother  had  enjoyed  perfect  health  up  to  the 
time  he  was  stricken;  and,  as  there  had  never  been  a  sug- 
gestion of  epilepsy,  or  any  like  disease,  in  either  branch  of 
the  family,  the  affliction  came  as  a  bolt  from  a  clear  sky. 
Everything  possible  was  done  to  effect  a  cure,  but  with- 
out avail.  On  July  4th,  1900,  he  died,  after  a  six  years' 
illness,  two  years  of  which  were  spent  at  home,  one  year 
in  a  trip  around  the  world  in  a  sailing  vessel,  and  most 
of  the  remainder  on  a  farm  near  Hartford.  The  doctors 
finally  decided  that  a  tumor  at  the  base  of  the  brain 
had  caused  his  malady  and  his  death. 

As  I  was  in  college  when  my  brother  was  first  stricken,  I 
had  more  time  at  my  disposal  than  the  other  members  of 
the  family,  and  for  that  reason  spent  much  of  it  with  him. 
Though  his  attacks  during  the  first  year  occurred  only  at 
night,  the  fear  that  they  might  occur  during  the  day,  in 
public,  affected  my  nerves  from  the  beginning. 

Now,  if  a  brother  who  had  enjoyed  perfect  health  all 
his  life  could  be  stricken  with  epilepsy,  what  was  to  pre- 
vent my  being  similarly  afflicted?  This  was  the  thought 
that  soon  got  possession  of  my  mind.  The  more  I  con- 
sidered it  and  him,  the  more  nervous  I  became;  and  the 
more  nervous,  the  more  convinced  that  my  own  break- 


8  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

down  was  only  a  matter  of  time.  Doomed  to  what  I 
then  considered  a  living  death,  I  thought  of  epilepsy,  I 
dreamed  epilepsy,  until  thousands  of  times  during  the 
six  years  that  this  disquieting  idea  persisted,  my  over- 
wrought imagination  seemed  to  drag  me  to  the  very  verge 
of  an  attack.  Yet  at  no  time  during  my  life  have  these 
early  fears  been  realized. 

For  the  fourteen  months  succeeding  the  time  my 
brother  was  first  stricken,  I  was  greatly  harassed  with 
fear;  but  not  until  later  did  my  nerves  really  conquer  me. 
I  remember  distinctly  when  the  break  came.  It  hap- 
pened in  November,  1895,  during  a  recitation  in  German. 
That  hour  in  the  class  room  was  one  of  the  most  dis- 
agreeable I  ever  experienced.  It  seemed  as  if  my 
nerves  had  snapped,  like  so  many  minute  bands  of  rub- 
ber stretched  beyond  their  elastic  limit.  Had  I  had 
the  courage  to  leave  the  room,  I  should  have  done  so; 
but  I  sat  as  if  paralyzed  until  the  class  was  dismissed. 

That  term  I  did  not  again  attend  recitations.  Con- 
tinuing my  studies  at  home,  I  passed  satisfactory  ex- 
aminations, which  enabled  me  to  resume  my  place  in  the 
class  room  the  following  January.  During  the  remain- 
der of  my  college  years  I  seldom  entered  a  recitation 
room  with  any  other  feeling  than  that  of  dread,  though 
the  absolute  assurance  that  I  should  not  be  called  upon 
to  recite  did  somewhat  relieve  my  anxiety  in  some 
classes.  The  professors,  whom  I  had  told  about  my 
state  of  health  and  the  cause  of  it,  invariably  treated 
me  with  consideration;  but,  though  I  believe  they 
never  doubted  the  genuineness  of  my  excuse,   it  was 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  9 

no  easy  matter  to  keep  them  convinced  for  almost  two- 
thirds  of  my  college  course.  My  inability  to  recite 
was  not  due  usually  to  any  lack  of  preparation.  How- 
ever well  prepared  I  might  be,  the  moment  I  was 
called  upon,  a  mingling  of  a  thousand  disconcerting 
sensations,  and  the  distinct  thought  that  at  last  the 
dread  attack  was  at  hand,  would  suddenly  intervene 
and  deprive  me  of  all  but  the  power  to  say,  "Not 
prepared."  Weeks  would  pass  without  any  other 
record  being  placed  opposite  my  name  than  a  zero, 
or  a  blank  indicating  that  I  had  not  been  called 
upon  at  all.  Occasionally,  however,  a  professor,  in 
justice  to  himself  and  to  the  other  students,  would  in- 
sist that  I  recite,  and  at  such  times  I  managed  to  make 
enough  of  a  recitation  to  hold  my  place  in  the  class. 

When  I  entered  Yale,  I  had  four  definite  ambitions: 
first,  to  secure  an  election  to  a  coveted  secret  society; 
second,  to  become  one  of  the  editors  of  the  Yale  Record, 
an  illustrated  humorous  bi-weekly;  third  (granting  that 
I  should  succeed  in  this  latter  ambition),  to  convince 
my  associates  that  I  should  have  the  position  of  busi- 
ness manager — an  office  which  I  sought,  not  for  the 
honor,  but  because  I  believed  it  would  enable  me  to 
earn  an  amount  of  money  at  least  equal  to  the  cost  of 
tuition  for  my  years  at  Yale;  fourth  (and  this  was  my 
chief  ambition),  to  win  my  diploma  within  the  pre- 
scribed time.  These  four  ambitions  I  fortunately 
achieved. 

A  man's  college  days,  collectively,  are  usually  his 
happiest.     Most  of  mine  were  not  happy.     Yet  I  look 


io  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

back  upon  them  with  great  satisfaction,  for  I  feel  that  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  absorb  some  of  that  intangible, 
but  very  real,  element  known  as  the  "  Yale  spirit."  This 
has  helped  to  keep  Hope  alive  within  me  during  my  most 
discouraged  moments,  and  has  ever  since  made  the  ac- 
complishment of  my  purposes  seem  easy  and  sure. 


II 


On  the  thirtieth  day  of  June,  1897,  I  graduated  at 
Yale.  Had  I  then  realized  that  I  was  a  sick  man,  I  could 
and  would  have  taken  a  rest.  But,  in  a  way,  I  had  be- 
come accustomed  to  the  ups  and  downs  of  a  nervous 
existence,  and,  as  I  could  not  really  afford  a  rest,  six  days 
after  my  graduation  I  entered  upon  the  duties  of  a  clerk 
in  the  office  of  the  Collector  of  Taxes  in  the  city  of  New 
Haven.  I  was  fortunate  in  securing  such  a  position  at 
that  time,  for  the  hours  were  comparatively  short  and 
the  work  as  congenial  as  any  could  have  been  under  the 
circumstances.  I  entered  the  Tax  Office  with  the  in- 
tention of  staying  only  until  such  time  as  I  might  secure 
a  position  in  New  York.  About  a  year  later  I  secured 
the  desired  position.  After  remaining  in  it  for  eight 
months  I  left  it,  in  order  to  take  a  position  which  seemed 
to  offer  a  field  of  endeavor  more  to  my  taste.  From  May, 
1899,  till  the  middle  of  June,  1900, 1  was  a  clerk  in  one  of 
the  smaller  life-insurance  companies,  whose  home  office 
was  within  a  stone's  throw  of  what  some  men  consider 
the  center  of  the  universe.  To  be  in  the  very  heart  of 
the  financial  district  of  New  York  appealed  strongly  to 
my  imagination.  As  a  result  of  the  contagious  ideals  of 
Wall  Street,  the  making  of  money  was  then  a  passion 
with  me.  I  wished  to  taste  the  bitter-sweet  of  power 
based  on  wealth. 

11 


12  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

For  the  first  eighteen  months  of  my  life  in  New  York, 
my  health  seemed  no  worse  than  it  had  been  during  the 
preceding  three  years.  But  the  old  dread  still  possessed 
me.  I  continued  to  have  my  more  and  less  nervous 
days,  weeks,  and  months.  In  March,  1900,  however, 
there  came  a  change  for  the  worse.  At  that  time  I  had  a 
severe  attack  of  grippe  which  incapacitated  me  for  two 
weeks.  As  was  to  be  expected  in  my  case,  this  illness 
seriously  depleted  my  vitality,  and  left  me  in  a  frightfully 
depressed  condition — a  depression  which  continued  to 
grow  upon  me  until  the  final  crash  came,  on  June  23rd, 
1900.  The  events  of  that  day,  seemingly  disastrous  as 
then  viewed,  but  evidently  all  for  the  best  as  the  issue 
proved,  forced  me  along  paths  traveled  by  thousands, 
but  comprehended  by  few. 

I  had  continued  to  perform  my  clerical  duties  until 
June  15th.  On  that  day  1  was  compelled  to  stop,  and 
that  at  once.  I  had  reached  a  point  where  my  will 
had  to  capitulate  to  Unreason — that  unscrupulous 
usurper.  My  previous  five  years  as  a  neurasthenic 
had  led  me  to  believe  that  I  had  experienced  all  the 
disagreeable  sensations  an  overworked  and  unstrung 
nervous  system  could  suffer.  But  on  this  day  several 
new  and  terrifying  sensations  seized  me  and  rendered 
me  all  but  helpless.  My  condition,  however,  was  not 
apparent  even  to  those  who  worked  with  me  at  the 
same  desk.  I  remember  trying  to  speak  and  at  times 
finding  myself  unable  to  give  utterance  to  my  thoughts. 
Though  I  was  able  to  answer  questions,  that  fact 
hardly  diminished  my  feeling  of  apprehension,   for  a 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  13 

single  failure  in  an  attempt  to  speak  will  stagger  any 
man,  no  matter  what  his  state  of  health.  I  tried  to 
copy  certain  records  in  the  day's  work,  but  my  hand 
was  too  unsteady,  and  I  found  it  difficult  to  read 
the  words  and  figures  presented  to  my  tired  vision  in 
blurred  confusion. 

That  afternoon,  conscious  that  some  terrible  calamity 
was  impending,  but  not  knowing  what  would  be  its  na- 
ture, I  performed  a  very  curious  act.  Certain  early 
literary  efforts  which  had  failed  of  publication  in  the  col- 
lege paper,  but  which  I  had  jealously  cherished  for  several 
years,  I  utterly  destroyed.  Then,  after  a  hurried  ar- 
rangement of  my  affairs,  I  took  an  early  afternoon  train, 
and  was  soon  in  New  Haven.  Home  life  did  not  make 
me  better,  and,  except  for  three  or  four  short  walks,  I 
did  not  go  out  of  the  house  at  all  until  June  23d,  when  I 
went  in  a  most  unusual  way.  To  relatives  I  said  little 
about  my  state  of  health,  beyond  the  general  statement 
that  I  had  never  felt  worse — a  statement  which,  when 
made  by  a  neurasthenic,  means  much,  but  proves  little. 
For  five  years  I  had  had  my  ups  and  downs,  and  both  my 
relatives  and  myself  had  begun  to  look  upon  these  as 
things  which  would  probably  be  corrected  in  and  by 
time. 

The  day  after  my  home-coming  I  made  up  my  mind,  or 
that  part  of  it  which  was  still  within  my  control,  that  the 
time  had  come  to  quit  business  entirely  and  take  a  rest  of 
months.  I  even  arranged  with  a  younger  brother  to  set 
out  at  once  for  some  quiet  place  in  the  White  Mountains, 
where  I  hoped  to  steady  my  shattered  nerves.     At  this 


14  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

time  I  felt  as  though  in  a  tremor  from  head  to  foot,  and 
the  thought  that  I  was  about  to  have  an  epileptic  at- 
tack constantly  recurred.  On  more  than  one  occasion 
I  said  to  friends  that  I  would  rather  die  than  live  an 
epileptic;  yet,  if  I  rightly  remember,  I  never  declared 
the  actual  fear  that  I  was  doomed  to  bear  such  an 
affliction.  Though  I  held  the  mad  belief  that  I  should 
suffer  epilepsy,  I  held  the  sane  hope,  amounting  to 
belief,  that  I  should  escape  it.  This  fact  may  account, 
in  a  measure,  for  my  six  years  of  endurance. 

On  the  1 8th  of  June  I  felt  so  much  worse  that  I  went 
to  my  bed  and  stayed  there  until  the  23d.  During  the 
night  of  the  18th  my  persistent  dread  became  a  false 
belief — a  delusion.  What  I  had  long  expected  I  now  be- 
came convinced  had  at  last  occurred.  I  believed  my- 
self to  be  a  confirmed  epileptic,  and  that  conviction  was 
stronger  than  any  ever  held  by  a  sound  intellect.  The 
half-resolve,  made  before  my  mind  was  actually  im- 
paired, namely,  that  I  would  kill  myself  rather  than  live 
the  life  I  dreaded,  now  divided  my  attention  with  the 
belief  that  the  stroke  had  fallen.  From  that  time  my  one 
thought  was  to  hasten  the  end,  for  I  felt  that  I  should 
lose  the  chance  to  die  should  relatives  find  me  in  an 
attack  of  epilepsy. 

Considering  the  state  of  my  mind  and  my  inability  at 
that  time  to  appreciate  the  enormity  of  such  an  end  as  I 
half  contemplated,  my  suicidal  purpose  was  not  entirely 
selfish.  That  I  had  never  seriously  contemplated  sui- 
cide is  proved  by  the  fact  that  I  had  not  provided  myself 
with  the  means  of  accomplishing  it,  despite  my  habit, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  15 

which  has  long  been  remarked  by  my  friends,  of  pre- 
paring even  for  unlikely  contingencies.  So  far  as  I  had 
the  control  of  my  faculties,  it  must  be  admitted  that  I 
deliberated;  but,  strictly  speaking,  the  rash  act  which 
followed  cannot  correctly  be  called  an  attempt  at  suicide 
— for  how  can  a  man  who  is  not  himself  kill  himself? 

Soon  my  disordered  brain  was  busy  with  schemes  for 
death.  I  distinctly  remember  one  which  included  a 
row  on  Lake  Whitney,  near  New  Haven.  This  I  in- 
tended to  take  in  the  most  unstable  boat  obtainable. 
Such  a  craft  could  be  easily  upset,  and  I  should  so  be- 
queath to  relatives  and  friends  a  sufficient  number  of 
reasonable  doubts  to  rob  my  death  of  the  usual  stigma. 
I  also  remember  searching  for  some  deadly  drug  which  I 
hoped  to  find  about  the  house.  But  the  quantity  and 
quality  of  what  I  found  were  not  such  as  I  dared  to  trust. 
I  then  thought  of  severing  my  jugular  vein,  even  going  so 
far  as  to  test  against  my  throat  the  edge  of  a  razor  which, 
after  the  deadly  impulse  first  asserted  itself,  I  had  se- 
creted in  a  convenient  place.  I  really  wished  to  die,  but 
so  uncertain  and  ghastly  a  method  did  not  appeal  to  me. 
Nevertheless,  had  I  felt  sure  that  in  my  tremulous  frenzy 
I  could  accomplish  the  act  with  skilful  dispatch,  I  should 
at  once  have  ended  my  troubles. 

My  imaginary  attacks  were  now  recurring  with  dis- 
tracting frequency,  and  I  was  in  constant  fear  of  dis- 
covery. During  these  three  or  four  days  I  slept  scarcely 
at  all  —  even  the  medicine  given  to  induce  sleep  having 
little  effect.  Though  inwardly  frenzied,  I  gave  no  out- 
ward sign  of  my  condition.     Most  of  the  time  I  remained 


16  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

quietly  in  bed.  I  spoke  but  seldom.  I  had  practically, 
though  not  entirely,  lost  the  power  of  speech;  but  my 
almost  unbroken  silence  aroused  no  suspicions  as  to  the 
seriousness  of  my  condition. 

By  a  process  of  elimination,  all  suicidal  methods  but 
one  had  at  last  been  put  aside.  On  that  one  my  mind 
now  centred.  My  room  was  on  the  fourth  floor  of  the 
house — one  of  a  block  of  five — in  which  my  parents 
lived.  The  house  stood  several  feet  back  from  the  street. 
The  sills  of  my  windows  were  a  little  more  than  thirty 
feet  above  the  ground.  Under  one  was  a  flag  pavement, 
extending  from  the  house  to  the  front  gate.  Under  the 
other  was  a  rectangular  coal-hole  covered  with  an  iron 
grating.  This  was  surrounded  by  flagging  over  a  foot  in 
width;  and  connecting  it  and  the  pavement  proper  was 
another  flag.  So  that  all  along  the  front  of  the  house, 
stone  or  iron  filled  a  space  at  no  point  less  than  two  feet 
in  width.  It  required  little  calculation  to  determine  how 
slight  the  chance  of  surviving  a  fall  from  either  of  those 
windows. 

About  dawn  I  arose.  Stealthily  I  approached  a  win- 
dow, pushed  open  the  blinds,  and  looked  out — and  down. 
Then  I  closed  the  blinds  as  noiselessly  as  possible  and 
crept  back  to  bed:  I  had  not  yet  become  so  irresponsible 
that  I  dared  to  take  the  leap.  Scarcely  had  I  pulled  up 
the  covering  when  a  watchful  relative  entered  my  room, 
drawn  thither  perhaps  by  that  protecting  prescience 
which  love  inspires.  I  thought  her  words  revealed  a 
suspicion  that  she  had  heard  me  at  the  window,  but 
speechless  as  I  was  I  had  enough  speech  to  deceive  her. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND   ITSELF  17 

For  of  what  account  are  Truth  and  Love  when  Life 
itself  has  ceased  to  seem  desirable? 

The  dawn  soon  hid  itself  in  the  brilliancy  of  a  perfect 
June  day.  Never  had  I  seen  a  brighter — to  look  at; 
never  a  darker — to  live  through — or  a  better  to  die  upon. 
Its  very  perfection  and  the  songs  of  the  robins,  which  at 
that  season  were  plentiful  in  the  neighborhood,  served 
but  to  increase  my  despair  and  make  me  the  more  will- 
ing to  die.  As  the  day  wore  on,  my  anguish  became 
more  intense,  but  I  managed  to  mislead  those  about  me 
by  uttering  a  word  now  and  then,  and  feigning  to  read  a 
newspaper,  which  to  me,  however,  appeared  an  unintel- 
ligible jumble  of  type.  My  brain  was  in  a  ferment.  It 
felt  as  if  pricked  by  a  million  needles  at  white  heat.  My 
whole  body  felt  as  though  it  would  be  torn  apart  by  the 
terrific  nervous  strain  under  which  I  labored. 

Shortly  after  noon,  dinner  having  been  served,  my 
mother  entered  the  room  and  asked  me  if  she  should  bring 
me  some  dessert.  I  assented.  It  was  not  that  I  cared 
for  the  dessert;  I  had  no  appetite.  I  wished  to  get  her 
out  of  the  room,  for  I  believed  myself  to  be  on  the  verge 
of  another  attack.  She  left  at  once.  I  knew  that  in 
two  or  three  minutes  she  would  return.  The  crisis 
seemed  at  hand.  It  was  now  or  never  for  liberation. 
She  had  probably  descended  one  of  three  flights  of  stairs 
when,  with  the  mad  desire  to  dash  my  brains  out  on 
the  pavement  below,  I  rushed  to  that  window  which 
was  directly  over  the  flag  walk.  Providence  must  have 
guided  my  movements,  for  in  some  otherwise  unac- 
countable way,  on  the   very  point  of  hurling  myself 


1 8  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

out  bodily,  I  chose  to  drop  feet  foremost  instead. 
With  my  ringers  I  clung  for  a  moment  to  the  sill. 
Then  I  let  go.  In  falling  my  body  turned  so  as  to 
bring  my  right  side  toward  the  building.  I  struck 
the  ground  a  little  more  than  two  feet  from  the 
foundation  of  the  house,  and  at  least  three  to  the  left  of 
the  point  from  which  I  started.  Missing  the  stone  pave- 
ment by  not  more  than  three  or  four  inches,  I  struck  on 
comparatively  soft  earth.  My  position  must  have  been 
almost  upright,  for  both  heels  struck  the  ground  squarely. 
The  concussion  slightly  crushed  one  heel  bone  and 
broke  most  of  the  small  bones  in  the  arch  of  each  foot, 
but  there  was  no  mutilation  of  the  flesh.  As  my  feet 
struck  the  ground  my  right  hand  struck  hard  against 
the  front  of  the  house,  and  it  is  probable  that  these 
three  points  of  contact,  dividing  the  force  of  the  shock, 
prevented  my  back  from  being  broken.  As  it  was,  it 
narrowly  escaped  a  fracture  and,  for  several  weeks 
afterward,  it  felt  as  if  powdered  glass  had  been  substi- 
tuted for  cartilage  between  the  vertebrae. 

I  did  not  lose  consciousness  even  for  a  second,  and  the 
demoniacal  dread,  which  had  possessed  me  from  June, 
1894,  until  this  fall  to  earth  just  six  years  later,  was 
dispelled  the  instant  I  struck  the  ground.  At  no  time 
since  have  I  experienced  one  of  my  imaginary  at- 
tacks; nor  has  my  mind  even  for  a  moment  entertained 
such  an  idea.  The  little  demon  which  had  tortured  me 
relentlessly  for  so  many  years  evidently  lacked  the 
stamina  which  I  must  have  had  to  survive  the  shock  of 
my  suddenly  arrested  flight  through  space.     That  the 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  19 

very  delusion  which  drove  me  to  a  death-loving  despera- 
tion should  so  suddenly  vanish  would  seem  to  indicate 
that  many  a  suicide  might  be  averted  if  the  person  con- 
templating it  could  find  the  proper  assistance  when 
such  a  crisis  impends. 


Ill 


It  was  squarely  in  frontof  the  dining-room  window  that 
I  fell,  and  those  at  dinner  were,  of  course,  startled.  It 
took  them  a  second  or  two  to  realize  what  had  happened. 
Then  my  younger  brother  rushed  out,  and  with  others 
carried  me  into  the  house.  Naturally  that  dinner  was 
permanently  interrupted.  A  mattress  was  placed  on 
the  floor  of  the  dining  room  and  I  on  that,  suffering  in- 
tensely. I  said  little,  but  what  I  said  was  significant. 
"I  thought  I  had  epilepsy!"  was  my  first  remark;  and 
several  times  I  said,  "I  wish  it  was  over!"  For  I 
believed  that  my  death  was  only  a  question  of  hours. 
To  the  doctors,  who  soon  arrived,  I  said,  "My  back  is 
broken!" — raising  myself  slightly,  however,  as  I  said  so. 

An  ambulance  was  summoned  and  I  was  placed  in 
it.  Because  of  the  nature  of  my  injuries  it  had  to 
proceed  slowly.  The  trip  of  a  mile  and  a  half  seemed 
interminable,  but  finally  I  arrived  at  Grace  Hospital 
and  was  placed  in  a  room  which  soon  became  a  chamber 
of  torture.  It  was  on  the  second  floor;  and  the  first 
object  to  engage  my  attention  and  stir  my  imagination 
was  a  man  who  appeared  outside  my  window  and  placed 
in  position  several  heavy  iron  bars.  These  were,  it 
seems,  thought  necessary  for  my  protection,  but  at  that 
time  no  such  idea  occurred  to  me.  My  mind  was  in 
a  delusional  state,  ready  and  eager  to  seize  upon  any 
external  stimulus  as  a  pretext  for  its  wild  inventions, 

20 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  21 

and  that  barred  window  started  a  terrible  train  of  de- 
lusions which  persisted  for  seven  hundred  and  ninety- 
eight  days.  During  that  period  my  mind  imprisoned 
both  mind  and  body  in  a  dungeon  than  which  none  was 
ever  more  secure. 

Knowing  that  those  who  attempt  suicide  are  usually 
placed  under  arrest,  I  believed  myself  under  legal  re- 
straint. I  imagined  that  at  any  moment  I  might  be 
taken  to  court  to  face  some  charge  lodged  against  me  by 
the  local  police.  Every  act  of  those  about  me  seemed  to 
be  a  part  of  what,  in  police  parlance,  is  commonly  called 
the  "Third  Degree."  The  hot  poultices  placed  upon  my 
feet  and  ankles  threw  me  into  a  profuse  perspiration, 
and  my  very  active  association  of  mad  ideas  convinced 
me  that  I  was  being  " sweated" — another  police  term 
which  I  had  often  seen  in  the  newspapers.  I  inferred 
that  this  third-degree  sweating  process  was  being  in- 
flicted in  order  to  extort  some  kind  of  a  confession, 
though  what  my  captors  wished  me  to  confess  I  could 
not  for  my  life  imagine.  As  I  was  really  in  a  state  of  de- 
lirium, with  high  fever,  I  had  an  insatiable  thirst.  The 
only  liquids  given  me  were  hot  saline  solutions.  Though 
there  was  good  reason  for  administering  these,  I  believed 
they  were  designed  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  increase 
my  sufferings,  as  part  of  the  same  inquisitorial  process. 
But  had  a  confession  been  due,  I  could  hardly  have  made 
it,  for  that  part  of  my  brain  which  controls  the  power  of 
speech  was  seriously  affected,  and  was  soon  to  be  further 
disabled  by  my  ungovernable  thoughts.  Only  an  oc- 
casional word  did  I  utter. 


22  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Certain  hallucinations  of  hearing,  or  "  false  voices," 
added  to  my  torture.  Within  my  range  of  hearing,  but 
beyond  the  reach  of  my  understanding,  there  was  a  hell- 
ish vocal  hum.  Now  and  then  I  would  recognize  the 
subdued  voice  of  a  friend;  now  and  then  I  would  hear  the 
voices  of  some  I  believed  were  not  friends.  All  these  re- 
ferred to  me  and  uttered  what  I  could  not  clearly  dis- 
tinguish, but  knew  must  be  imprecations.  Ghostly 
rappings  on  the  walls  and  ceiling  of  my  room  punc- 
tuated unintelligible  mumblings  of  invisible  persecu- 
tors. 

I  remember  distinctly  my  delusion  of  the  following 
day — Sunday.  I  seemed  to  be  no  longer  in  the  hospital. 
In  some  mysterious  way  I  had  been  spirited  aboard  a 
huge  ocean  liner.  I  first  discovered  this  when  the  ship 
was  in  mid-ocean.  The  day  was  clear,  the  sea  apparently 
calm,  but  for  all  that  the  ship  was  slowly  sinking.  And 
it  was  I,  of  course,  who  had  created  the  situation  which 
must  turn  out  fatally  for  all,  unless  the  coast  of  Europe 
could  be  reached  before  the  water  in  the  hold  should  ex- 
tinguish the  fires.  How  had  this  peril  overtaken  us? 
Simply  enough :  During  the  night  I  had  in  some  way — a 
way  still  unknown  to  me — opened  a  porthole  below  the 
water-line ;  and  those  in  charge  of  the  vessel  seemed  pow- 
erless to  close  it.  Every  now  and  then  I  could  hear  parts 
of  the  ship  give  way  under  the  strain.  I  could  hear  the 
air  hiss  and  whistle  spitefully  under  the  resistless  impact 
of  the  invading  waters ;  I  could  hear  the  crashing  of  tim- 
bers as  partitions  were  wrecked ;  and  as  the  water  rushed 
in  at  one  place  I  could  see,  at  another,  scores  of  helpless 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  23 

passengers  swept  overboard  into  the  sea — my  unintended 
victims.  I  believed  that  I,  too,  might  at  any  moment  be 
swept  away.  That  I  was  not  thrown  into  the  sea  by 
vengeful  fellow-passengers  was,  I  thought,  due  to  their 
desire  to  keep  me  alive  until,  if  possible,  land  should 
be  reached,  when  a  more  painful  death  could  be  inflicted 
upon  me. 

While  aboard  my  phantom  ship  I  managed  in  some 
way  to  establish  an  electric  railway  system ;  and  the  trol- 
ley cars  which  passed  the  hospital  were  soon  running 
along  the  deck  of  my  ocean  liner,  carrying  passengers 
from  the  places  of  peril  to  what  seemed  places  of  com- 
parative safety  at  the  bow.  Every  time  I  heard  a  car 
pass  the  hospital,  one  of  mine  went  clanging  along  the 
ship's  deck. 

My  feverish  imaginings  were  no  less  remarkable  than 
the  external  stimuli  which  excited  them.  As  I  have 
since  ascertained,  there  were  just  outside  my  room  an 
elevator  and  near  it  a  speaking-tube.  Whenever  the 
speaking-tube  was  used  from  another  part  of  the  build- 
ing, the  summoning  whistle  conveyed  to  my  mind  the 
idea  of  the  exhaustion  of  air  in  a  ship-compartment,  and 
the  opening  and  shutting  of  the  elevator  door  completed 
the  illusion  of  a  ship  fast  going  to  pieces.  But  the  ship 
my  mind  was  on  never  reached  any  shore,  nor  did  she 
sink.  Like  a  mirage  she  vanished,  and  again  I  found 
myself  safe  in  my  bed  at  the  hospital.  "  Safe,"  did  I  say? 
Scarcely  that — for  deliverance  from  one  impending  dis- 
aster simply  meant  immediate  precipitation  into  another. 

My  delirium  gradually  subsided,  and  four  or  five  days 


24  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

after  the  23d  the  doctors  were  able  to  set  my  broken 
bones.  The  operation  suggested  new  delusions.  Shortly 
before  the  adjustment  of  the  plaster  casts,  my  legs,  for 
obvious  reasons,  were  shaved  from  shin  to  calf.  This 
unusual  tonsorial  operation  I  read  for  a  sign  of  degrada- 
tion— associating  it  with  what  I  had  heard  of  the  treat- 
ment of  murderers  and  with  similar  customs  in  bar- 
barous countries.  It  was  about  this  time  also  that  strips 
of  court-plaster,  in  the  form  of  a  cross,  were  placed  on 
my  forehead,  which  had  been  slightly  scratched  in  my 
fall,  and  this,  of  course,  I  interpreted  as  a  brand  of 
infamy. 

Had  my  health  been  good,  I  should  at  this  time  have 
been  participating  in  the  Triennial  of  my  class  at  Yale. 
Indeed,  I  was  a  member  of  the  Triennial  Committee  and 
though,  when  I  left  New  York  on  June  15th,  I  had  been 
feeling  terribly  ill,  I  had  then  hoped  to  take  part  in  the 
celebration.  The  class  reunions  were  held  on  Tuesday, 
June  26th — three  days  after  my  collapse.  Those  familiar 
with  Yale  customs  know  that  the  Harvard  baseball 
game  is  one  of  the  chief  events  of  the  commencement 
season.  Headed  by  brass  bands,  all  the  classes  whose 
reunions  fall  in  the  same  year  march  to  the  Yale  Athletic 
Field  to  see  the  game  and  renew  their  youth — using  up  as 
much  vigor  in  one  delirious  day  as  would  insure  a  ripe 
old  age  if  less  prodigally  expended.  These  classes,  with 
their  bands  and  cheering,  accompanied  by  thousands  of 
other  vociferating  enthusiasts,  march  through  West 
Chapel  Street — the  most  direct  route  from  the  Campus  to 
the  Field.     It  is  upon  this  line  of  march  that  Grace  Hos- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  25 

pital  is  situated,  and  I  knew  that  on  the  day  of  the  game 
the  Yale  thousands  would  pass  the  scene  of  my  incarcer- 
ation. 

I  have  endured  so  many  days  of  the  most  exquisite  tor- 
ture that  I  hesitate  to  distinguish  among  them  by 
degrees;  each  deserves  its  own  unique  place,  even  as  a 
Saint's  Day  in  the  calendar  of  an  olden  Spanish  inquis- 
itor. But,  if  the  palm  is  to  be  awarded  to  any,  June  26th, 
1900,  perhaps  has  the  first  claim. 

My  state  of  mind  at  that  time  might  be  pictured  thus: 
The  criminal  charge  of  attempted  suicide  stood  against 
me  on  June  23rd.  By  the  26th  many  other  and  worse 
charges  had  accumulated.  The  public  believed  me  the 
most  despicable  member  of  my  race.  The  papers  were 
filled  with  accounts  of  my  misdeeds.  The  thousands  of 
collegians  gathered  in  the  city,  many  of  whom  I  knew 
personally,  loathed  the  very  thought  that  a  Yale  man 
should  so  disgrace  his  Alma  Mater.  And  when  they  ap- 
proached the  hospital  on  their  way  to  the  Athletic  Field, 
I  concluded  that  it  was  their  intention  to  take  me  from 
my  bed,  drag  me  to  the  lawn,  and  there  tear  me  limb  from 
limb.  Few  incidents  during  my  unhappiest  years  are 
more  vividly  or  circumstantially  impressed  upon  my 
memory.  The  fear,  to  be  sure,  was  absurd,  but  in  the 
lurid  lexicon  of  Unreason  there  is  no  such  word  as  "  ab- 
surd." Believing,  as  I  did,  that  I  had  dishonored  Yale 
and  forfeited  the  privilege  of  being  numbered  among  her 
sons,  it  was  not  surprising  that  the  college  cheers  which 
filled  the  air  that  afternoon,  and  in  which  only  a  few  days 
earlier  I  had  hoped  to  join,  struck  terror  to  my  heart. 


IV 


Naturally  I  was  suspicious  of  all  about  me,  and  be- 
came more  so  each  day.  But  not  until  about  a  month 
later  did  I  refuse  to  recognize  my  relatives.  While  I  was 
at  Grace  Hospital,  my  father  and  eldest  brother  called  al- 
most every  day  to  see  me,  and,  though  I  said  little,  I  still 
accepted  them  in  their  proper  characters.  I  remember 
well  a  conversation  one  morning  with  my  father.  The 
words  I  uttered  were  few,  but  full  of  meaning.  Shortly 
before  this  time  my  death  had  been  momentarily  ex- 
pected. I  still  believed  that  I  was  surely  about  to  die  as 
a  result  of  my  injuries,  and  I  wished  in  some  way  to  let 
my  father  know  that,  despite  my  apparently  ignomin- 
ious end,  I  appreciated  all  that  he  had  done  for  me  dur- 
ing my  life.  Few  men,  I  believe,  ever  had  a  more  painful 
time  in  expressing  their  feelings  than  I  had  on  that  oc- 
casion. I  had  but  little  control  over  my  mind,  and  my 
power  of  speech  was  impaired.  My  father  sat  beside 
my  bed.  Looking  up  at  him,  I  said,  "You  have  been  a 
good  father  to  me." 

"I  have  always  tried  to  be,"  was  his  characteristic 
reply. 

After  the  broken  bones  had  been  set,  and  the  first 
effects  of  the  severe  shock  I  had  sustained  had  worn  off, 
I  began  to  gain  strength.  About  the  third  week  I  was 
able  to  sit  up  and  was  occasionally  taken  out  of  doors. 

26 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  27 

But  each  day,  and  especially  during  the  hours  of  the 
night,  my  delusions  increased  in  force  and  variety.  The 
world  was  fast  becoming  to  me  a  stage  on  which  every 
human  being  within  the  range  of  my  senses  seemed  to  be 
playing  a  part,  and  that  a  part  which  would  lead  not  only 
to  my  destruction  (for  which  I  cared  little),  but  also  to 
the  ruin  of  all  with  whom  I  had  ever  come  in  contact.  In 
the  month  of  July  several  thunder-storms  occurred.  To 
me  the  thunder  was  "  stage"  thunder,  the  Hghtning  man- 
made,  and  the  accompanying  rain  due  to  some  clever  con- 
trivance of  my  persecutors.  There  was  a  chapel  connected 
with  the  hospital — or  at  least  a  room  where  religious 
services  were  held  every  Sunday.  To  me  the  hymns  were 
funeral  dirges ;  and  the  mumbled  prayers,  faintly  audible, 
were  in  behalf  of  every  sufferer  in  the  world  but  one. 

It  was  my  eldest  brother  who  looked  after  my  care  and 
interests  during  my  entire  illness.  Toward  the  end  of 
July,  he  informed  me  that  I  was  to  be  taken  home  again. 
I  must  have  given  him  an  incredulous  look,  for  he 
said,  "  Don't  you  think  we  can  take  you  home?  Well, 
we  can  and  will."  Believing  myself  in  the  hands  of  the 
police,  I  did  not  see  how  that  was  possible.  Nor  did  I  have 
any  desire  to  return.  That  a  man  who  had  disgraced  his 
family  should  again  enter  his  old  home  and  expect  his 
relatives  to  treat  him  as  though  nothing  were  changed, 
was  a  thought  against  which  my  soul  rebelled;  and, 
when  the  day  came  for  my  return,  I  fought  my  brother 
and  the  doctor  feebly  as  they  lifted  me  from  the  bed. 
But  I  soon  submitted,  was  placed  in  a  carriage,  and 
driven  to  the  house  I  had  left  a  month  earlier. 


28  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

For  a  few  hours  my  mind  was  calmer  than  it  had  been. 
But  my  new-found  ease  was  soon  dispelled  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  nurse — one  of  several  who  had  attended  me 
at  the  hospital.  Though  at  home  and  surrounded  by 
relatives,  I  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  still, 
under  police  surveillance.  At  my  request  my  brother 
had  promised  not  to  engage  any  nurse  who  had  been 
in  attendance  at  the  hospital.  The  difficulty  of  pro- 
curing any  other  led  him  to  disregard  my  request, 
which  at  the  time  he  held  simply  as  a  whim.  But  he 
did  not  disregard  it  entirely,  for  the  nurse  selected 
had  merely  acted  as  a  substitute  on  one  occasion,  and 
then  only  for  about  an  hour.  That  was  long  enough, 
though,  for  my  memory  to  record  her  image. 

Finding  myself  still  under  surveillance,  I  soon  jumped 
to  a  second  conclusion,  namely,  that  this  was  no  brother 
of  mine  at  all.  He  instantly  appeared  in  the  light  of  a 
sinister  double,  acting  as  a  detective.  After  that  I  refused 
absolutely  to  speak  to  him  again,  and  this  repudiation  I 
extended  to  all  other  relatives,  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances. If  the  man  I  had  accepted  as  my  brother  was  spu- 
rious, so  was  everybody — that  was  my  deduction.  For 
more  than  two  years  I  was  without  relatives  or  friends, 
in  fact,  without  a  world,  except  that  one  created  by  my 
own  mind  from  the  chaos  that  reigned  within  it. 

While  I  was  at  Grace  Hospital,  it  was  my  sense  of  hear- 
ing which  was  the  most  disturbed.  But  soon  after  I  was 
placed  in  my  room  at  home,  all  of  my  senses  became  per- 
verted. I  still  heard  the  " false  voices" — which  were 
doubly  false,  for  Truth  no  longer  existed.     The  tricks 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  29 

played  upon  me  by  my  senses  of  taste,  touch,  smell, 
and  sight  were  the  source  of  great  mental  anguish. 
None  of  my  food  had  its  usual  flavor.  This  soon  led  to 
that  common  delusion  that  some  of  it  contained  poison — 
not  deadly  poison,  for  I  knew  that  my  enemies  hated  me 
too  much  to  allow  me  the  boon  of  death,  but  poison  suf- 
ficient to  aggravate  my  discomfort.  At  breakfast  I  had 
cantaloupe,  liberally  sprinkled  with  salt.  The  salt 
seemed  to  pucker  my  mouth,  and  I  believed  it  to  be 
powdered  alum.  Usually,  with  my  supper,  sliced  peaches 
were  served.  Though  there  was  sugar  on  the  peaches, 
salt  would  have  done  as  well.  Salt,  sugar,  and  powdered 
alum  had  become  the  same  to  me. 

Familiar  materials  had  acquired  a  different  "feel.'  In 
the  dark,  the  bed  sheets  at  times  seemed  like  silk.  As  I 
had  not  been  born  with  a  golden  spoon  in  my  mouth,  or 
other  accessories  of  a  useless  luxury,  I  believed  the  de- 
tectives had  provided  these  silken  sheets  for  some  hostile 
purpose  of  their  own.  What  that  purpose  was  I  could 
not  divine,  and  my  very  inability  to  arrive  at  a  satis- 
factory conclusion  stimulated  my  brain  to  the  assembling 
of  disturbing  thoughts  in  an  almost  endless  train. 

Imaginary  breezes  struck  my  face,  gentle,  but  not 
welcome,  most  of  them  from  parts  of  the  room  where 
currents  of  air  could  not  possibly  originate.  They 
seemed  to  come  from  cracks  in  the  walls  and  ceiling  and 
annoyed  me  exceedingly.  I  thought  them  in  some  way 
related  to  that  ancient  method  of  torture  by  which 
water  is  allowed  to  strike  the  victim's  forehead,  a  drop 
at  a  time,  until  death  releases  him.     For  a  while  my 


30  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

sense  of  smell  added  to  my  troubles.  The  odor  of  burn- 
ing human  flesh  and  other  pestilential  fumes  seemed 
to  assail  me. 

My  sense  of  sight  was  subjected  to  many  weird  and  un- 
canny effects.  Phantasmagoric  visions  made  their  visi- 
tations throughout  the  night,  for  a  time  with  such  regular- 
ity that  I  used  to  await  their  coming  with  a  certain 
restrained  curiosity.  I  was  not  entirely  unaware  that 
something  was  ailing  with  my  mind.  Yet  these  illusions 
of  sight  I  took  .for  the  work  of  detectives,  who  sat  up 
nights  racking  their  brains  in  order  to  rack  and  utterly 
wreck  my  own  with  a  cruel  and  unfair  Third  Degree. 

Handwriting  on  the  wall  has  ever  struck  terror  to  the 
hearts  of  even  sane  men.  I  remember  as  one  of  my  most 
unpleasant  experiences  that  I  began  to  see  handwriting  on 
the  sheets  of  my  bed  staring  me  in  the  face,  and  not  me 
alone,  but  also  the  spurious  relatives  who  often  stood  or 
sat  near  me.  On  each  fresh  sheet  placed  over  me  I  would 
soon  begin  to  see  words,  sentences,  and  signatures,  all  in 
my  own  handwriting.  Yet  I  could  not  decipher  any  of 
the  words,  and  this  fact  dismayed  me,  for  I  firmly  be- 
lieved that  those  who  stood  about  could  read  them  all 
and  found  them  to  be  incriminating  evidence. 

I  imagined  that  these  visionlike  effects,  with  few  ex- 
ceptions, were  produced  by  a  magic  lantern  controlled  by 
some  of  my  myriad  persecutors.  The  lantern  was  rather 
a  cinematographic  contrivance.  Moving  pictures,  often 
brilliantly  colored,  were  thrown  on  the  ceiling  of  my 
room  and  sometimes  on  the  sheets  of  my  bed.  Human 
bodies,  dismembered  and  gory,  were  one  of  the  most 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  31 

common  of  these.  All  this  may  have  been  due  to  the 
fact  that,  as  a  boy,  I  had  fed  my  imagination  on  the 
sensational  news  of  the  day  as  presented  in  the  public 
press.  Despite  the  heavy  penalty  which  I  now  paid 
for  thus  loading  my  mind,  I  believe  this  unwise  indulg- 
ence gave  a  breadth  and  variety  to  my  peculiar  psycho- 
logical experience  which  it  otherwise  would  have  lacked. 
For  with  an  insane  ingenuity  I  managed  to  connect 
myself  with  almost  every  crime  of  importance  of  which 
I  had  ever  read. 

Dismembered  human  bodies  were  not  alone  my  bed- 
fellows at  this  time.  I  remember  one  vision  of  vivid 
beauty.  Swarms  of  butterflies  and  large  and  gorgeous 
moths  appeared  on  the  sheets.  I  wished  that  the  usu- 
ally unkind  operator  would  continue  to  show  these 
pretty  creatures.  Another  pleasing  vision  appeared 
about  twilight  several  days  in  succession.  I  can  trace 
it  directly  to  impressions  gained  in  early  childhood.  The 
quaint  pictures  by  Kate  Greenaway — little  children  in 
attractive  dress,  playing  in  old-fashioned  gardens — 
would  float  through  space  just  outside  my  windows. 
The  pictures  were  always  accompanied  by  the  gleeful 
shouts  of  real  children  in  the  neighborhood,  who,  before 
being  sent  to  bed  by  watchful  parents,  devoted  the  last 
hour  of  the  day  to  play.  It  doubtless  was  their  shouts 
that  stirred  my  memories  of  childhood  and  brought  forth 
these  pictures. 

In  my  chamber  of  intermittent  horrors  and  moment- 
ary delights,  uncanny  occurrences  were  frequent.  I  be- 
lieved there  was  some  one  who  at  fall  of  night  secreted 


32  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

himself  under  my  bed.  That  in  itself  was  not  peculiar,  as 
sane  persons  at  one  time  or  another  are  troubled  by  that 
same  notion.  But  my  bed-fellow — under  the  bed — was 
a  detective;  and  he  spent  most  of  his  time  during  the 
night  pressing  pieces  of  ice  against  my  injured  heels,  to 
precipitate,  as  I  thought,  my  overdue  confession. 

The  piece  of  ice  in  the  pitcher  of  water  which  usually 
stood  on  the  table  sometimes  clinked  against  the 
pitcher's  side  as  its  center  of  gravity  shifted  through 
melting.  It  was  many  days  before  I  reasoned  out  the 
cause  of  this  sound;  and  until  I  did  I  supposed  it  was 
produced  by  some  mechanical  device  resorted  to  by  the 
detectives  for  a  purpose.  Thus  the  most  trifling  occur- 
rence assumed  for  me  vast  significance. 


After  remaining  at  home  for  about  a  month,  during 
which  time  I  showed  no  improvement  mentally,  though 
I  did  gain  physically,  I  was  taken  to  a  private  sanator- 
ium. My  destination  was  frankly  disclosed  to  me.  But 
my  habit  of  disbelief  had  now  become  fixed,  and  I  thought 
myself  on  the  way  to  a  trial  in  New  York  City,  for  some 
one  of  the  many  crimes  with  which  I  stood  charged. 

My  emotions  on  leaving  New  Haven  were,  I  imagine, 
much  the  same  as  those  of  a  condemned  but  penitent 
criminal  who  looks  upon  the  world  for  the  last  time.  The 
day  was  hot,  and,  as  we  drove  to  the  railway  station,  the 
blinds  on  most  of  the  houses  in  the  streets  through  which 
we  passed  were  seen  to  be  closed.  The  reason  for  this 
was  not  then  apparent  to  me.  I  thought  I  saw  an  un- 
broken line  of  deserted  houses,  and  I  imagined  that  their 
desertion  had  been  deliberately  planned  as  a  sign  of  dis- 
pleasure on  the  part  of  their  former  occupants.  As 
citizens  of  New  Haven,  I  supposed  them  bitterly  ashamed 
of  such  a  despicable  townsman  as  myself.  Because  of  the 
early  hour,  the  streets  were  practically  deserted.  This 
fact,  too,  I  interpreted  to  my  own  disadvantage.  As 
the  carriage  crossed  the  main  business  thoroughfare,  I 
took  what  I  believed  to  be  my  last  look  at  that  part  of 
my  native  city. 

From  the  carriage  I  was  carried  to  the  train  and  placed 
in  the  smoking  car  in  the  last  seat  on  the  right-hand  side. 

33 


34  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

The  back  of  the  seat  next  in  front  was  reversed  so  that  my 
legs  might  be  placed  in  a  comfortable  position,  and  one  of 
the  boards  used  by  card-playing  travelers  was  placed  be- 
neath them  as  a  support.  With  a  consistent  degree  of 
suspicion  I  paid  particular  attention  to  a  blue  mark  on 
the  face  of  the  railroad  ticket  held  by  my  custodian.  I 
took  it  to  be  a  means  of  identification  for  use  in  court. 

That  one's  memory  may  perform  its  function  in  the 
grip  of  Unreason  itself  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  my  mem- 
ory retains  an  impression,  and  an  accurate  one,  of  virtu- 
ally everything  that  befell  me,  except  when  under  the 
influence  of  an  anaesthetic  or  in  the  unconscious  hours  of 
undisturbed  sleep.  Important  events,  trifling  conver- 
sations, and  more  trifling  thoughts  of  my  own  are  now 
recalled  with  ease  and  accuracy;  whereas,  prior  to  my  ill- 
ness and  until  a  strange  experience  to  be  recorded 
later,  mine  was  an  ordinary  memory  when  it  was  not 
noticeably  poor.  At  school  and  in  college  I  stood 
lowest  in  those  studies  in  which  success  depended 
largely  upon  this  faculty.  Psychiatrists  inform  me  that 
it  is  not  unusual  for  those  suffering  as  I  did  to  retain 
accurate  impressions  of  their  experiences  while  ill.  To 
laymen  this  may  seem  almost  miraculous,  yet  it  is  not 
so;  nor  is  it  even  remarkable.  Assuming  that  an  insane 
person's  memory  is  capable  of  recording  impressions  at  all, 
remembrance  for  one  in  the  torturing  grip  of  delusions  of 
persecution  should  be  doubly  easy.  This  deduction  is 
in  accord  with  the  accepted  psychological  law  that  the 
retention  of  an  impression  in  the  memory  depends  largely 
upon  the  intensity  of  the  impression  itself,  and  the  fre- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  35 

quency  of  its  repetition.  Fear  to  speak,  lest  I  should 
incriminate  myself  and  others,  gave  to  my  impressions 
the  requisite  intensity,  and  the  daily  recurrence  of  the 
same  general  line  of  thought  served  to  fix  all  impressions 
in  my  then  supersensitive  memory. 

Shortly  before  seven  in  the  morning,  on  the  way  to  the 
sanatorium,  the  train  passed  through  a  manufacturing 
center.  Many  workmen  were  lounging  in  front  of  a  fac- 
tory, most  of  them  reading  newspapers.  I  believed  these 
papers  contained  an  account  of  me  and  my  crimes,  and  I 
thought  everyone  along  the  route  knew  who  I  was  and 
what  I  was,  and  that  I  was  on  that  train.  Few  seemed  to 
pay  any  attention  to  me,  yet  this  very  fact  looked  to  be 
a  part  of  some  well-laid  plan  of  the  detectives. 

The  sanatorium  to  which  I  was  going  was  in  the 
country.  When  a  certain  station  was  reached,  I  was 
carried  from  the  train  to  a  carriage.  At  that  moment  I 
caught  sight  of  a  former  college  acquaintance,  whose 
appearance  I  thought  was  designed  to  let  me  know  that 
Yale,  which  I  believed  I  had  disgraced,  was  one  of  the 
powers  behind  my  throne  of  torture. 

Soon  after  I  reached  my  room  in  the  sanatorium,  the 
supervisor  entered.  Drawing  a  table  close  to  the  bed,  he 
placed  upon  it  a  slip  of  paper  which  he  asked  me  to  sign. 
I  looked  upon  this  as  a  trick  of  the  detectives  to  get  a 
specimen  of  my  handwriting.  I  now  know  that  the  sign- 
ing of  the  slip  is  a  legal  requirement,  with  which  every 
patient  is  supposed  to  comply  upon  entering  such  an  insti- 
tution— private  in  character — unless  he  has  been  com- 
mitted  by   some   court.     The   exact   wording   of   this 


2,6  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

"voluntary  commitment "  I  do  not  now  recall;  but,  it 
was,  in  substance,  an  agreement  to  abide  by  the  rules  of 
the  institution — whatever  they  were — and  to  submit  to 
such  restraint  as  might  be  deemed  necessary.  Had  I  not 
felt  the  weight  of  the  world  on  my  shoulders,  I  believe  my 
sense  of  humor  would  have  caused  me  to  laugh  outright; 
for  the  signing  of  such  an  agreement  by  one  so  situated 
was,  even  to  my  mind,  a  farce.  After  much  coaxing  I 
was  induced  to  go  so  far  as  to  take  the  pen  in  my  hand. 
There  I  again  hesitated.  The  supervisor  apparently 
thought  I  might  write  with  more  ease  if  the  paper  were 
placed  on  a  book.  And  so  I  might,  had  he  selected  a  book 
of  a  different  title.  One  more  likely  to  arouse  suspicions 
in  my  mind  could  not  have  been  found  in  a  search  of  the 
Congressional  Library.  I  had  left  New  York  on  June 
15th,  and  it  was  in  the  direction  of  that  city  that  my 
present  trip  had  taken  me.  I  considered  this  but  the 
first  step  of  my  return  under  the  auspices  of  its  Police 
Department.  "  Called  Back"  was  the  title  of  the  book 
that  stared  me  in  the  face.  After  refusing  for  a  long 
time  I  finally  weakened  and  signed  the  slip;  but  I  did  not 
place  it  on  the  book.  To  have  done  that  would,  in  my 
mind,  have  been  tantamount  to  giving  consent  to  ex- 
tradition; and  I  was  in  no  mood  to  assist  the  detectives  in 
their  mean  work.  At  what  cost  had  I  signed  that  com- 
mitment slip?  To  me  it  was  the  act  of  signing  my  own 
death-warrant. 


VI 


During  the  entire  time  that  my  delusions  of  persecu- 
tion, as  they  are  called,  persisted,  I  could  not  but  respect 
the  mind  that  had  laid  out  so  comprehensive  and  devil- 
ishly ingenious  and,  at  times,  artistic  a  Third  Degree 
as  I  was  called  upon  to  bear.  And  an  innate  modesty 
(more  or  less  fugitive  since  these  peculiar  experiences) 
does  not  forbid  my  mentioning  the  fact  that  I  still  re- 
spect that  mind. 

Suffering  such  as  I  endured  during  the  month  of 
August  in  my  own  home  continued  with  gradually 
diminishing  force  during  the  eight  months  I  remained  in 
this  sanatorium.  Nevertheless  my  sufferings  during  the 
first  four  of  these  eight  months  was  intense.  All  my 
senses  were  still  perverted.  My  sense  of  sight  was  the 
first  to  right  itself — nearly  enough,  at  least,  to  rob  the 
detectives  of  their  moving  pictures.  But  before  the  last 
fitful  film  had  run  through  my  mind,  I  beheld  one  which 
I  shall  now  describe.  I  can  trace  it  directly  to  an  im- 
pression made  on  my  memory  about  two  years  earlier, 
before  my  breakdown. 

Shortly  after  going  to  New  York  to  live,  I  had  explored 
the  Eden  Musee.  One  of  the  most  gruesome  of  the 
spectacles  which  I  had  seen  in  its  famed  Chamber  of 
Horrors  was  a  representation  of  a  gorilla,  holding  in  its 
arms  the  gory  body  of  a  woman.     It  was  that  impression 

37 


38  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

which  now  revived  in  my  mind.  But  by  a  process 
strictly  in  accordance  with  Darwin's  theory,  the  Eden 
Musee  gorilla  had  become  a  man — in  appearance  not 
unlike  the  beast  that  had  inspired  my  distorted  thought. 
This  man  held  a  bloody  dagger  which  he  repeatedly 
plunged  into  the  woman's  breast.  The  apparition  did 
not  terrify  me  at  all.  In  fact  I  found  it  interesting,  for  I 
looked  upon  it  as  a  contrivance  of  the  detectives.  Its 
purpose  I  could  not  divine,  but  this  fact  did  not  trouble 
me,  as  I  reasoned  that  no  additional  criminal  charges 
could  make  my  situation  worse  than  it  already  was. 

For  a  month  or  two,  "  false  voices"  continued  to  annoy 
me.  And  if  there  is  a  hell  conducted  on  the  principles  of 
my  temporary  hell,  gossippers  will  one  day  wish  they  had 
attended  strictly  to  their  own  business.  This  is  not  a 
confession.  I  am  no  gossipper,  though  I  cannot  deny  that 
I  have  occasionally  gossipped — a  little.  And  this  was  my 
punishment :  persons  in  an  adjoining  room  seemed  to  be 
repeating  the  very  same  things  which  I  had  said  of 
others  on  these  communicative  occasions.  I  supposed 
that  those  whom  I  had  talked  about  had  in  some  way 
found  me  out,  and  intended  now  to  take  their  revenge. 

My  sense  of  smell,  too,  became  normal;  but  my  sense 
of  taste  was  slow  in  recovering.  At  each  meal,  poison 
was  still  the  piece  de  resistance,  and  it  was  not  surprising 
that  I  sometimes  dallied  one,  two,  or  three  hours  over  a 
meal,  and  often  ended  by  not  eating  it  at  all. 

There  was,  however,  another  reason  for  my  frequent 
refusal  to  take  food,  in  my  belief  that  the  detectives  had 
resorted  to  a  more  subtle  method  of  detection.    They  now 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  39 

intended  by  each  article  of  food  to  suggest  a  certain  idea, 
and  I  was  expected  to  recognize  the  idea  thus  suggested. 
Conviction  or  acquittal  depended  upon  my  correct  inter- 
pretation of  their  symbols,  and  my  interpretation  was  to 
be  signified  by  my  eating,  or  not  eating,  the  several  kinds 
of  food  placed  before  me.  To  have  eaten  a  burnt  crust  of 
bread  would  have  been  a  confession  of  arson.  Why? 
Simply  because  the  charred  crust  suggested  hre;  and,  as 
bread  is  the  staff  of  life,  would  it  not  be  an  inevitable 
deduction  that  life  had  been  destroyed — destroyed  by  fire 
— and  that  I  was  the  destroyer?  On  one  day  to  eat  a 
given  article  of  food  meant  confession.  The  next  day,  or 
the  next  meal,  a  refusal  to  eat  it  meant  confession.  This 
complication  of  logic  made  it  doubly  difficult  for  me  to 
keep  from  incriminating  myself  and  others. 

It  can  easily  be  seen  that  I  wTas  between  several  devils 
and  the  deep  sea.  To  eat  or  not  to  eat  perplexed  me 
more  than  the  problem  conveyed  by  a  few  shorter  words 
perplexed  a  certain  prince,  who,  had  he  lived  a  few  centu- 
ries later  (out  of  a  book) ,  might  have  been  forced  to  enter 
a  kingdom  where  kings  and  princes  are  made  and  unmade 
on  short  notice.  Indeed,  he  might  have  lost  his  princi- 
pality entirely — or,  at  least,  his  subjects;  for,  as  I  later 
had  occasion  to  observe,  the  frequency  with  which  a  de- 
throned reason  mounts  a  throne  and  rules  a  world  is  such 
that  self-crowned  royalty  receives  but  scant  homage  from 
the  less  elated  members  of  the  court. 

For  several  weeks  I  ate  but  little.  Though  the  desire 
for  food  was  not  wanting,  my  mind  (that  dog-in-the- 
manger)  refused  to  let  me  satisfy  my  hunger.     Coaxing 


40  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

by  the  attendants  was  of  little  avail;  force  was  usually  of 
less.  But  the  threat  that  liquid  nourishment  would  be 
administered  through  my  nostrils  sometimes  prevailed, 
for  the  attribute  of  shrewdness  was  not  so  utterly  lost 
that  I  could  not  choose  the  less  of  two  evils. 

What  I  looked  upon  as  a  gastronomic  ruse  of  the  detect- 
ives sometimes  overcame  my  fear  of  eating.  Every  Sun- 
day ice  cream  was  served  with  dinner.  At  the  beginning 
of  the  meal  a  large  pyramid  of  it  would  be  placed  before 
me  in  a  saucer  several  sizes  too  small.  I  believed  that  it 
was  never  to  be  mine  unless  I  first  partook  of  the  more 
substantial  fare.  As  I  dallied  over  the  meal,  that  de- 
licious pyramid  would  gradually  melt,  slowly  filling  the 
small  saucer,  which  I  knew  could  not  long  continue  to 
hold  all  of  its  original  contents.  As  the  melting  of  the 
ice  cream  progressed,  I  became  more  indifferent  to  my 
eventual  fate;  and,  invariably,  before  a  drop  of  that  pre- 
cious reward  had  dripped  from  the  saucer,  I  had  eaten 
enough  of  the  dinner  to  prove  my  title  to  the  seductive 
dessert.  Moreover,  during  its  enjoyment,  I  no  longer 
cared  a  whit  for  charges  or  convictions  of  all  the  crimes 
in  the  calendar.  This  fact  is  less  trifling  than  it  seems; 
for  it  proves  the  value  of  strategy  as  opposed  to  brute  and 
sometimes  brutal  force,  of  which  I  shall  presently  give 
some  illuminating  examples. 


VII 


Choice  of  a  sanatorium  by  people  of  limited  means  is, 
unfortunately,  very  restricted.  Though  my  relatives  be- 
lieved the  one  in  which  I  was  placed  was  at  least  fairly 
well  conducted,  events  proved  otherwise.  From  a  mod- 
est beginning  made  not  many  years  previously,  it  had 
enjoyed  a  mushroom  growth.  About  two  hundred  and 
fifty  patients  were  harbored  in  a  dozen  or  more  small 
frame  buildings,  suggestive  of  a  mill  settlement.  Out- 
side the  limits  of  a  city,  and  in  a  state  where  there  was  lax 
official  supervision,  owing  in  part  to  faulty  laws,  the 
owner  of  this  little  settlement  of  woe  had  erected  a  nest 
of  veritable  fire-traps  in  which  helpless  sick  people  were 
forced  to  risk  their  fives.  This  was  a  necessary  procedure 
if  the  owner  was  to  grind  out  an  exorbitant  income  on 
his  investment. 

The  same  spirit  of  economy  and  commercialism  per- 
vaded the  entire  institution.  Its  worst  manifestation 
was  in  the  employment  of  the  meanest  type  of  attendant 
— men  willing  to  work  for  the  paltry  wage  of  eighteen  dol- 
lars a  month.  Very  seldom  did  competent  attendants 
consent  to  work  there,  and  then  usually  because  of  a 
scarcity  of  profitable  employment  elsewhere.  Provi- 
dentially for  me,  such  an  attendant  came  upon  the 
scene.  This  young  man,  so  long  as  he  remained  in  the 
good  graces  of  the   owner-superintendent,   was  admit- 

41 


42  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

tedly  one  of  the  best  attendants  he  had  ever  had. 
Yet  aside  from  a  five-dollar  bill  which  a  relative  had 
sent  me  at  Christmas  and  which  I  had  refused  to  accept 
because  of  my  belief  that  it,  like  my  relatives,  was  coun- 
terfeit— aside  from  that  bill,  which  was  turned  over  to 
the  attendant  by  my  brother,  he  received  no  additional 
pecuniary  rewards.  His  chief  reward  lay  in  his  con- 
sciousness of  the  fact  that  he  was  protecting  me  against 
injustices  which  surely  would  have  been  visited  upon  me 
had  he  quitted  his  position  and  left  me  to  the  mercies  of 
the  owner  and  his  ignorant  assistants.  To-day,  with 
deep  appreciation,  I  contrast  the  treatment  I  received 
at  his  hands  with  that  which  I  suffered  during  the  three 
weeks  preceding  his  appearance  on  the  scene.  During 
that  period,  no  fewer  than  seven  attendants  contrib- 
uted to  my  misery.  Though  some  of  them  were  perhaps 
decent  enough  fellows  outside  a  sickroom,  not  one  had 
the  right  to  minister  to  a  patient  in  my  condition. 

The  two  who  were  first  put  in  charge  of  me  did  not 
strike  me  with  their  fists  or  even  threaten  to  do  so ;  but 
their  unconscious  lack  of  consideration  for  my  comfort 
and  peace  of  mind  was  torture.  They  were  typical 
eighteen-dollar-a-month  attendants.  Another  of  the 
same  sort,  on  one  occasion,  cursed  me  with  a  degree  of 
brutality  which  I  prefer  not  to  recall,  much  less  record. 
And  a  few  days  later  the  climax  was  appropriately 
capped  when  still  another  attendant  perpetrated  an 
outrage  which  a  sane  man  would  have  resented  to  the 
point  of  homicide.  He  was  a  man  of  the  coarsest  type. 
His  hands  would  have  done  credit  to  a  longshoreman — 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  43 

fingers  knotted  and  nearly  twice  the  normal  size.  Be- 
cause I  refused  to  obey  a  peremptory  command,  and  this 
at  a  time  when  I  habitually  refused  even  on  pain  of  imag- 
ined torture  to  obey  or  to  speak,  this  brute  not  only  cursed 
me  with  abandon,  he  deliberately  spat  upon  me.  I  was 
a  mental  incompetent,  but  like  many  others  in  a  similar 
position  I  was  both  by  antecedents  and  by  training  a 
gentleman.  Vitriol  could  not  have  seared  my  flesh  more 
deeply  than  the  venom  of  this  human  viper  stung  my 
soul!  Yet,  as  I  was  rendered  speechless  by  delusions,  I 
could  offer  not  so  much  as  a  word  of  protest.  I  trust  that 
it  is  not  now  too  late,  however,  to  protest  in  behalf  of 
the  thousands  of  outraged  patients  in  private  and  state 
hospitals  whose  mute  submission  to  such  indignities  has 
never  been  recorded. 

Of  the  readiness  of  an  unscrupulous  owner  to  employ 
inferior  attendants,  I  shall  offer  a  striking  illustration. 
The  capable  attendant  who  acted  as  my  protector  at  this 
sanatorium  has  given  me  an  affidavit  embodying  certain 
facts  which,  of  course,  I  could  not  have  known  at  the  time 
of  their  occurrence.  The  gist  of  this  sworn  statement  is  as 
follows :  One  day  a  man — seemingly  a  tramp— approached 
the  main  building  of  the  sanatorium  and  inquired  for 
the  owner.  He  soon  found  him,  talked  with  him  a  few 
minutes,  and  an  hour  or  so  later  he  was  sitting  at  the  bed- 
side of  an  old  and  infirm  man.  This  aged  patient  had 
recently  been  committed  to  the  institution  by  relatives 
who  had  labored  under  the  common  delusion  that  the 
payment  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money  each  week  would 
insure  kindly  treatment.     When  this  tramp-attendant 


44  A  MIND    THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

first  appeared,  all  his  visible  worldly  possessions  were 
contained  in  a  small  bundle  which  he  carried  under  his 
arm.  So  filthy  were  his  person  and  his  clothes  that  he  re- 
ceived a  compulsory  bath  and  another  suit  before  being 
assigned  to  duty.  He  then  began  to  earn  his  four  dollars 
and  fifty  cents  a  week  by  sitting  several  hours  a  day  in 
the  room  with  the  aged  man,  sick  unto  death.  My  in- 
formant soon  engaged  him  in  conversation.  What  did 
he  learn?  First,  that  the  uncouth  stranger  had  never 
before  so  much  as  crossed  the  threshold  of  a  hospital. 
His  last  job  had  been  as  a  member  of  a  section-gang  on  a 
railroad.  From  the  roadbed  of  a  railway  to  the  bedside 
of  a  man  about  to  die  was  indeed  a  change  which  might 
have  taxed  the  adaptability  of  a  more  versatile  being. 
But  coarse  as  he  was,  this  unkempt  novice  did  not  abuse 
his  charge — except  in  so  far  as  his  inability  to  interpret 
or  anticipate  wants  contributed  to  the  sick  man's  dis- 
tress. My  own  attendant,  realizing  that  the  patient 
was  suffering  for  the  want  of  skilled  attention,  spent  a 
part  of  his  time  in  this  unhappy  room,  which  was  but 
across  the  hall  from  my  own.     The  end  soon  came. 

My  attendant,  who  had  had  training  as  a  nurse, 
detected  the  unmistakable  signs  of  impending  death.  He 
forthwith  informed  the  owner  of  the  sanatorium  that  the 
patient  was  in  a  dying  condition,  and  urged  him  (a  doc- 
tor) to  go  at  once  to  the  bedside.  The  doctor  refused  to 
comply  with  the  request  on  the  plea  that  he  was  at  the 
time  "  too  busy."  When  at  last  he  did  visit  the  room,  the 
patient  was  dead.  Then  came  the  supervisor,  who  took 
charge  of  the  body.     As  it  was  being  carried  from  the 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  45 

room  the  supervisor,  the  "  handy  man"  of  the  owner, 
said:  " There  goes  the  best  paying  patient  the  institution 
had;  the  doctor"  (meaning  the  owner)  "was  getting 
eighty-five  dollars  a  week  out  of  him."  Of  this  sum  not 
more  than  twenty  dollars  at  most,  at  the  time  this  hap- 
pened, could  be  considered  as  "cost  of  maintenance." 
The  remaining  sixty-five  dollars  went  into  the  pocket  of 
the  owner.  Had  the  man  lived  for  one  year,  the  owner 
might  have  pocketed  (so  far  as  this  one  case  was  con- 
cerned) the  neat  but  wicked  profit  of  thirty-three  hun- 
dred and  eighty  dollars.  And  what  would  the  patient 
have  received?  The  same  privilege  of  living  in  neglect 
and  dying  neglected. 


VIII 


For  the  first  few  weeks  after  my  arrival  at  the  sanator- 
ium, I  was  cared  for  by  two  attendants,  one  by  day  and 
one  by  night.  I  was  still  helpless,  being  unable  to  put  my 
feet  out  of  bed,  much  less  upon  the  floor,  and  it  was 
necessary  that  I  be  continually  watched  lest  an  impulse 
to  walk  should  seize  me.  After  a  month  or  six  weeks, 
however,  I  grew  stronger,  and  from  that  time  only  one 
person  was  assigned  to  care  for  me.  He  was  with  me 
all  day,  and  slept  at  night  in  the  same  room. 

The  earliest  possible  dismissal  of  one  of  my  two  attend- 
ants was  expedient  for  the  family  purse ;  but  such  are  the 
deficiencies  in  the  prevailing  treatment  of  the  insane  that 
relief  in  one  direction  often  occasions  evil  in  another. 
No  sooner  was  the  expense  thus  reduced  than  I  was 
subjected  to  a  detestable  form  of  restraint  which 
amounted  to  torture.  To  guard  me  at  night  while 
the  remaining  attendant  slept,  my  hands  were  impris- 
oned in  what  is  known  as  a  "muff."  A  muff,  inno- 
cent enough  to  the  eyes  of  those  who  have  never  worn 
one,  is  in  reality  a  relic  of  the  Inquisition.  It  is  an 
instrument  of  restraint  which  has  been  in  use  for  cen- 
turies and  even  in  many  of  our  public  and  private  institu- 
tions is  still  in  use.  The  muff  I  wore  was  made  of  can- 
vas, and  differed  in  construction  from  a  muff  designed 
for  the  hands  of  fashion  only  in  the  inner  partition,  also 
of  canvas,  which  separated  my  hands,  but  allowed  them 

46 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  47 

to  overlap.  At  either  end  was  a  strap  which  buckled 
tightly  around  the  wrist  and  was  locked. 

The  assistant  physician,  when  he  announced  to  me 
that  I  was  to  be  subjected  at  night  to  this  restraint,  broke 
the  news  gently — so  gently  that  I  did  not  then  know, 
nor  did  I  guess  for  several  months,  why  this  thing  was 
done  to  me.  And  thus  it  was  that  I  drew  deductions  of 
my  own  which  added  not  a  little  to  my  torture. 

The  gas  jet  in  my  room  was  situated  at  a  distance,  and 
stronger  light  was  needed  to  find  the  keyholes  and  lock 
the  muff  when  adjusted.  Hence,  an  attendant  was 
standing  by  with  a  lighted  candle.  Seating  himself  on 
the  side  of  the  bed,  the  physician  said:  "You  won't  try 
again  to  do  what  you  did  in  New  Haven,  will  you?" 
Now  one  may  have  done  many  things  in  a  city  where  he 
has  lived  for  a  score  of  years,  and  it  is  not  surprising  that 
I  failed  to  catch  the  meaning  of  the  doctor's  question.  It 
was  only  after  months  of  secret  puzzling  that  I  at  last  did 
discover  his  reference  to  my  attempted  suicide.  But 
now  the  burning  candle  in  the  hands  of  the  attendant, 
and  a  certain  similarity  between  the  doctor's  name 
and  the  name  of  a  man  whose  trial  for  arson  I  once 
attended  out  of  idle  curiosity,  led  me  to  imagine  that  in 
some  way  I  had  been  connected  with  that  crime.  For 
months  I  firmly  believed  I  stood  charged  as  an  ac- 
complice. 

The  putting  on  of  the  muff  was  the  most  humiliating 
incident  of  my  life.  The  shaving  of  my  legs  and  the 
wearing  of  the  court-plaster  brand  of  infamy  had 
been  humiliating,  but  those  experiences   had  not  over- 


48  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

whelmed  my  very  heart  as  did  this  bitter  ordeal.  I 
resisted  weakly,  and,  after  the  muff  was  adjusted  and 
locked,  for  the  first  time  since  my  mental  collapse  I 
wept.  And  I  remember  distinctly  why  I  wept.  The 
key  that  locked  the  muff  unlocked  in  imagination  the 
door  of  the  home  in  New  Haven  which  I  believed  I  had 
disgraced — and  seemed  for  a  time  to  unlock  my  heart. 
Anguish  beat  my  mind  into  a  momentary  sanity,  and 
with  a  wholly  sane  emotion  I  keenly  felt  my  imagined 
disgrace.  My  thoughts  centred  on  my  mother.  Her 
(and  other  members  of  the  family)  I  could  plainly  see  at 
home  in  a  state  of  dejection  and  despair  over  her  im- 
prisoned and  heartless  son.  I  wore  the  muff  each  night 
for  several  weeks,  and  for  the  first  few  nights  the  unhappy 
glimpses  of  a  ruined  home  recurred  and  increased  my 
sufferings. 

It  was  not  always  as  an  instrument  of  restraint  that  the 
muff  was  employed.  Frequently  it  was  used  as  a  means 
of  discipline  on  account  of  supposed  stubborn  disobedi- 
ence. Many  times  was  I  roughly  overpowered  by  two 
attendants  who  locked  my  hands  and  coerced  me  to 
do  whatever  I  had  refused  to  do.  My  arms  and  hands 
were  my  only  weapons  of  defence.  My  feet  were  still 
in  plaster  casts,  and  my  back  had  been  so  severely 
injured  as  to  necessitate  my  lying  flat  upon  it  most  of 
the  time.  It  was  thus  that  these  unequal  fights  were 
fought.  And  I  had  not  even  the  satisfaction  of 
tongue-lashing  my  oppressors,  for  I  was  practically 
speechless. 

My  attendants,  like  most  others  in  such  institutions,. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  49 

were  incapable  of  understanding  the  operations  of  my 
mind,  and  what  they  could  not  understand  they  would 
seldom  tolerate.  Yet  they  were  not  entirely  to  blame. 
They  were  simply  carrying  out  to  the  letter  orders  re- 
ceived from  the  doctors. 

To  ask  a  patient  in  my  condition  to  take  a  little  medi- 
cated sugar  seemed  reasonable.  But  from  my  point  of 
view  my  refusal  was  justifiable.  That  innocuous  sugar 
disc  to  me  seemed  saturated  with  the  blood  of  loved  ones; 
and  so  much  as  to  touch  it  was  to  shed  their  blood — per- 
haps on  the  very  scaffold  on  which  I  was  destined  to  die. 
For  myself  I  cared  little.  I  was  anxious  to  die,  and 
eagerly  would  I  have  taken  the  sugar  disc  had  I  had  any 
reason  to  believe  that  it  was  deadly  poison.  The  sooner 
I  could  die  and  be  forgotten,  the  better  for  all  with 
whom  I  had  ever  come  in  contact.  To  continue  to  live 
was  simply  to  be  the  treacherous  tool  of  unscrupulous 
detectives,  eager  to  exterminate  my  innocent  relatives 
and  friends,  if  so  their  fame  could  be  made  secure  in 
the   annals  of  their  craft. 

But  the  thoughts  associated  with  the  taking  of  the 
medicine  were  seldom  twice  alike.  If  before  taking  it 
something  happened  to  remind  me  of  mother,  father, 
some  other  relative,  or  a  friend,  I  imagined  that  compli- 
ance would  compromise,  if  not  eventually  destroy,  that 
particular  person.  Who  would  not  resist  when  meek 
acceptance  would  be  a  confession  which  would  doom  his 
own  mother  or  father  to  prison,  or  ignominy,  or  death? 
It  was  for  this  that  I  was  revUed,  for  this,  subjected  to 
cruel  restraint. 


50  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

They  thought  I  was  stubborn.  In  the  strict  sense  of 
the  word  there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  stubborn  insane 
person.  The  truly  stubborn  men  and  women  in  the 
world  are  sane;  and  the  fortunate  prevalence  of  sanity 
may  be  approximately  estimated  by  the  preponderance 
of  stubbornness  in  society  at  large.  When  one  possessed 
of  the  power  of  recognizing  his  own  errors  continues  to 
hold  an  unreasonable  belief — that  is  stubbornness. 
But  for  a  man  bereft  of  reason  to  adhere  to  an  idea  which 
to  him  seems  absolutely  correct  and  true  because  he 
has  been  deprived  of  the  means  of  detecting  his  error — 
that  is  not  stubbornness.  It  is  a  symptom  of  his  disease, 
and  merits  the  indulgence  of  forbearance,  if  not  genuine 
sympathy.  Certainly  the  afflicted  one  deserves  no 
punishment.  As  well  punish  with  a  blow  the  cheek  that 
is  disfigured  by  the  mumps. 

The  attendant  who  was  with  me  most  of  the  time  while 
I  remained  at  the  sanatorium  was  the  kindly  one  already 
mentioned.  Him  I  regarded,  however,  as  a  detective, 
or,  rather,  as  two  detectives,  one  of  whom  watched  me 
by  day,  and  the  other — a  perfect  double — by  night.  He 
Iwas  an  enemy,  and  his  professed  sympathy — which  I 
now  know  was  genuine — only  made  me  hate  him  the 
more.  As  he  was  ignorant  of  the  methods  of  treatment 
in  vogue  in  hospitals  for  the  insane,  it  was  several  weeks 
before  he  dared  put  in  jeopardy  his  position  by  pre- 
suming to  shield  me  against  unwise  orders  of  the 
doctors.  But  when  at  last  he  awoke  to  the  situation, 
he  repeatedly  intervened  in  my  behalf.  More  than 
once  the  doctor  who  was  both  owner  and  superintend- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  51 

ent  threatened  to  discharge  him  for  alleged  omciousness. 
But  better  judgment  usually  held  the  doctor's  wrath 
in  check,  for  he  realized  that  not  one  attendant  in  a 
hundred  was  so  competent. 

Not  only  did  the  friendly  attendant  frequently  ex- 
hibit more  wisdom  than  the  superintendent,  but  he  also 
obeyed  the  dictates  of  a  better  conscience  than  that  of 
his  nominal  superior,  the  assistant  physician.  On  three 
occasions  this  man  treated  me  with  a  signal  lack  of 
consideration,  and  in  at  least  one  instance  he  was  vi- 
cious. When  this  latter  incident  occurred,  I  was  both 
physically  and  mentally  helpless.  My  feet  were  swollen 
and  still  in  plaster  bandages.  I  was  all  but  mute,  utter- 
ing only  an  occasional  expletive  when  forced  to  perform 
acts  against  my  will. 

One  morning  Doctor  No-name  (he  represents  a  type) 
entered  my  room. 

"Good  morning!     How  are  you  feeling?"  he  asked. 

No  answer. 

"Aren't  you  feeling  well?" 

No  answer. 

"Why  don't  you  talk?"  he  asked  with  irritation. 

Still  no  answer,  except  perhaps  a  contemptuous  look 
such  as  is  so  often  the  essence  of  eloquence.  Suddenly, 
and  without  the  slightest  warning,  as  a  petulant  child 
locked  in  a  room  for  disobedience  might  treat  a  pillow, 
he  seized  me  by  an  arm  and  jerked  me  from  the  bed. 
It  was  fortunate  that  the  bones  of  my  ankles  and  feet, 
not  yet  thoroughly  knitted,  were  not  again  injured. 
And  this  was  the  performance  of  the  very  man  who  had 


52  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

locked  my  hands  in  the  muff,  that  I  might  not  injure 
myself! 

"Why  don't  you  talk?"  he  again  asked. 

Though  rather  slow  in  replying,  I  will  take  pleasure 
in  doing  so  by  sending  that  doctor  a  copy  of  this  book 
— my  answer — if  he  will  but  send  me  his  address. 

It  is  not  a  pleasant  duty  to  brand  any  physician  for 
cruelty  and  incompetence,  for  the  worst  that  ever  lived 
has  undoubtedly  done  many  good  deeds.  But  here  is 
the  type  of  man  that  has  wrought  havoc  among  the 
helpless  insane.  And  the  owner  represented  a  type  that 
has  too  long  profited  through  the  misfortunes  of  others. 
"Pay  the  price  or  put  your  relative  in  a  public  institu- 
tion!" is  the  burden  of  his  discordant  song  before  com- 
mitment. "Pay  or  get  out!"  is  his  jarring  refrain  when 
satisfied  that  the  family's  resources  are  exhausted.  I 
later  learned  that  this  grasping  owner  had  bragged  of 
making  a  profit  of  $98,000  in  a  single  year.  About 
twenty  years  later  he  left  an  estate  of  approximately 
$1,500,000.  Some  of  the  money,  however,  wrung  from 
patients  and  their  relatives  in  the  past  may  yet  benefit 
similar  sufferers  in  the  future,  for,  under  the  will  of  the 
owner,  several  hundred  thousand  dollars  will  eventu- 
ally be  available  as  an  endowment  for  the  institution. 


K 


It  was  at  the  sanatorium  that  my  ankles  were  finally 
restored  to  a  semblance  of  their  former  utility.  They 
were  there  subjected  to  a  course  of  heroic  treatment; 
but  as  to-day  they  permit  me  to  walk,  run,  dance,  and 
play  tennis  and  golf,  as  do  those  who  have  never 
been  crippled,  my  hours  of  torture  endured  under 
my  first  attempts  to  walk  are  almost  pleasant  to  recall. 
About  five  months  from  the  date  of  my  injury  I  was 
allowed,  or  rather  compelled,  to  place  my  feet  on  the 
floor  and  attempt  to  walk.  My  ankles  were  still  swollen, 
absolutely  without  action,  and  acutely  sensitive  to  the 
slightest  pressure.  From  the  time  they  were  hurt 
until  I  again  began  to  talk — two  years  later — I  asked 
not  one  question  as  to  the  probability  of  my  ever  regain- 
ing the  use  of  them.  The  fact  was,  I  never  expected  to 
walk  naturally  again.  The  desire  of  the  doctors  to  have 
me  walk  I  believed  to  be  inspired  by  the  detectives,  of 
whom,  indeed,  I  supposed  the  doctor  himself  to  be 
one.  Had  there  been  any  confession  to  make,  I  am  sure 
it  would  have  been  yielded  under  the  stress  of  this  ulti- 
mate torture.  The  million  needle  points  which,  just 
prior  to  my  mental  collapse,  seemed  to  goad  my  brain, 
now  centred  their  unwelcome  attention  on  the  soles  of 
my  feet.  Had  the  floor  been  studded  with  minute 
stilettos  my  sufferings  could  hardly  have    been  more 

53 


54  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

intense.  For  several  weeks  assistance  was  necessary 
with  each  attempt  to  walk,  and  each  attempt  was  an 
ordeal.  Sweat  stood  in  beads  on  either  foot,  wrung  from 
my  blood  by  agony.  Believing  that  it  would  be  only 
a  question  of  time  when  I  should  be  tried,  condemned, 
and  executed  for  some  one  of  my  countless  felonies, 
I  thought  that  the  attempt  to  prevent  my  continuing 
a  cripple  for  the  brief  remainder  of  my  days  was 
prompted  by  anything  but  benevolence. 

The  superintendent  would  have  proved  himself  more 
humane  had  he  not  peremptorily  ordered  my  attendant 
to  discontinue  the  use  of  a  support  which,  until  the 
plaster  bandages  were  removed,  had  enabled  me  to  keep 
my  legs  in  a  horizontal  position  when  I  sat  up.  His 
order  was  that  I  should  put  my  legs  down  and  keep 
them  down,  whether  it  hurt  or  not.  The  pain  was  of 
course  intense  when  the  blood  again  began  to  circulate 
freely  through  tissues  long  unused  to  its  full  pressure,  and 
so  evident  was  my  distress  that  the  attendant  ignored 
the  doctor's  command  and  secretly  favored  me.  He 
would  remove  the  forbidden  support  for  only  a  few 
minutes  at  a  time,  gradually  lengthening  the  intervals 
until  at  last  I  was  able  to  do  without  the  support 
entirely.  Before  long  and  each  day  for  several  weeks 
I  was  forced  at  first  to  stagger  and  finally  to  walk 
across  the  room  and  back  to  the  bed.  The  distance 
was  increased  as  the  pain  diminished,  until  I  was  able 
to  walk  without  more  discomfort  than  a  comparatively 
pleasant  sensation  of  lameness.  For  at  least  two  months 
after  my  feet  first  touched  the  floor  I  had  to  be  carried 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  55 

up  and  downstairs,  and  for  several  months  longer  I  went 
flat-footed. 

Delusions  of  persecution — which  include  "delusions 
of  self -reference  " — though  a  source  of  annoyance  while 
I  was  in  an  inactive  state,  annoyed  and  distressed  me 
even  more  when  I  began  to  move  about  and  was  obliged 
to  associate  with  other  patients.  To  my  mind,  not 
only  were  the  doctors  and  attendants  detectives;  each 
patient  was  a  detective  and  the  whole  institution  was  a 
part  of  the  Third  Degree.  Scarcely  any  remark  was 
made  in  my  presence  that  I  could  not  twist  into  a 
cleverly  veiled  reference  to  myself.  In  each  person 
I  could  see  a  resemblance  to  persons  I  had  known,  or  to 
the  principals  or  victims  of  the  crimes  with  which  I 
imagined  myself  charged.  I  refused  to  read;  for  to 
read  veiled  charges  and  fail  to  assert  my  innocence  was 
to  incriminate  both  myself  and  others.  But  I  looked 
with  longing  glances  upon  all  printed  matter  and,  as 
my  curiosity  was  continually  piqued,  this  enforced 
abstinence  grew  to  be  well-nigh  intolerable. 

It  became  again  necessary  to  the  family  purse  that 
every  possible  saving  be  made.  Accordingly,  I  was  trans- 
ferred from  the  main  building,  where  I  had  a  private 
room  and  a  speciaf  attendant,  to  a  ward  where  I  was  to 
mingle,  under  an  aggregate  sort  of  supervision,  with 
fifteen  or  twenty  other  patients.  Here  I  had  no  special 
attendant  by  day,  though  one  slept  in  my  room  at  night. 

Of  this  ward  I  had  heard  alarming  reports — and  these 
from  the  lips  of  several  attendants.  I  was,  therefore, 
greatly  disturbed  at  the  proposed  change.     But,  the 


56  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

transfer  once  accomplished,  after  a  few  days  I  really 
liked  my  new  quarters  better  than  the  old.  During  the 
entire  time  I  remained  at  the  sanatorium  I  was  more 
alert  mentally  than  I  gave  evidence  of  being.  But  not 
until  after  my  removal  to  this  ward,  where  I  was  left 
alone  for  hours  every  day,  did  I  dare  to  show  my  alert- 
ness. Here  I  even  went  so  far  on  one  occasion  as  to  joke 
with  the  attendant  in  charge.  He  had  been  trying  to 
persuade  me  to  take  a  bath.  I  refused,  mainly  because 
I  did  not  like  the  looks  of  the  bath  room,  which,  with  its 
cement  floor  and  central  drain,  resembled  the  room  in 
which  vehicles  are  washed  in  a  modern  stable.  After 
all  else  had  failed,  the  attendant  tried  the  role  of  sym- 
pathizer. 

"Now  I  know  just  how  you  feel,"  he  said,  "I  can  put 
myself  in  your  place." 

"Well,  if  you  can,  do  it  and  take  the  bath  yourself," 
was  my  retort. 

The  remark  is  brilliant  by  contrast  with  the  dismal 
source  from  which  it  escaped.  "Escaped"  is  the  word; 
for  the  fear  that  I  should  hasten  my  trial  by  exhibiting 
too  great  a  gain  in  health,  mental  or  physical,  was  already 
upon  me;  and  it  controlled  much  of  my  conduct  during 
the  succeeding  months  of  depression. 

Having  now  no  special  attendant,  I  spent  many  hours 
in  my  room,  alone,  but  not  absolutely  alone,  for  some- 
where the  eye  of  a  detective  was  evermore  upon  me. 
Comparative  solitude,  however,  gave  me  courage;  and 
soon  I  began  to  read,  regardless  of  consequences. 
During  the  entire  period  of  my  depression,  every  publi- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  57 

cation  seemed  to  have  been  written  and  printed  for  me, 
and  me  alone.  Books,  magazines,  and  newspapers  seemed 
to  be  special  editions.  The  fact  that  I  well  knew  how 
inordinate  would  be  the  cost  of  such  a  procedure  in  no 
way  shook  my  belief  in  it.  Indeed,  that  I  was  costing 
my  persecutors  fabulous  amounts  of  money  was  a  source 
of  secret  satisfaction.  My  belief  in  special  editions  of 
newspapers  was  strengthened  by  items  which  seemed 
too  trivial  to  warrant  publication  in  any  except  editions 
issued  for  a  special  purpose.  I  recall  a  seemingly  absurd 
advertisement,  in  which  the  phrase,  u  Green  Bluefish," 
appeared.  At  the  time  I  did  not  know  that  "  green  " 
was  a  term  used  to  denote  "  fresh  "  or  "  unsalted." 

During  the  earliest  stages  of  my  illness  I  had  lost  count 
of  time,  and  the  calendar  did  not  right  itself  until  the 
day  when  I  largely  regained  my  reason.  Meanwhile, 
the  date  on  each  newspaper  was,  according  to  my 
reckoning,  two  weeks  out  of  the  way.  This  confirmed 
my  belief  in  the  special  editions  as  a  part  of  the  Third 
Degree. 

Most  sane  people  think  that  no  insane  person  can  rea- 
son logically.  But  this  is  not  so.  Upon  unreasonable 
premises  I  made  most  reasonable  deductions,  and  that  at 
the  time  when  my  mind  was  in  its  most  disturbed  condi- 
tion. Had  the  newspapers  which  I  read  on  the  day  which 
I  supposed  to  be  February  1st  borne  a  January  date,  I 
might  not  then,  for  so  long  a  time,  have  believed  in  spe- 
cial editions.  Probably  I  should  have  inferred  that  the 
regular  editions  had  been  held  back.  But  the  newspapers 
I  had  were  dated  about  two  weeks  ahead.     Now  if  a  sane 


$8  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

person  on  February  ist  receives  a  newspaper  dated 
February  14th,  lie  will  be  fully  justified  in  thinking  some- 
thing wrong,  either  with  the  publication  or  with  himself. 
But  the  shifted  calendar  which  had  planted  itself  in  my 
mind  meant  as  much  to  me  as  the  true  calendar  does  to 
any  sane  business  man.  During  the  seven  hundred  and 
ninety-eight  days  of  depression  I  drew  countless  incor- 
rect deductions.  But,  such  as  they  were,  they  were  de- 
ductions, and  essentially  the  mental  process  was  not 
other  than  that  which  takes  place  in  a  well-ordered  mind. 

My  gradually  increasing  vitality,  although  it  increased 
my  fear  of  trial,  impelled  me  to  take  new  risks.  I  began 
to  read  not  only  newspapers,  but  also  such  books  as  were 
placed  within  my  reach.  Yet  had  they  not  been  placed 
there,  I  should  have  gone  without  them,  for  I  would 
never  ask  even  for  what  I  greatly  desired  and  knew  1 
could  have  for  the  asking. 

Whatever  love  of  literature  I  now  have  dates  from 
this  time,  when  I  was  a  mental  incompetent  and  confined 
in  an  institution.  Lying  on  a  shelf  in  my  room  was  a 
book  by  George  Eliot.  For  several  days  I  cast  longing 
glances  at  it  and  finally  plucked  up  the  courage  to 
take  little  nibbles  now  and  then.  These  were  so  good 
that  I  grew  bold  and  at  last  began  openly  to  read 
the  book.  Its  contents  at  the  time  made  but  little  im- 
pression on  my  mind,  but  I  enjoyed  it.  I  read  also  some 
of  Addison's  essays;  and  had  I  been  fortunate  enough  to 
have  made  myself  familiar  with  these  earlier  in  life,  I 
might  have  been  spared  the  delusion  that  I  could  detect, 
in  many  passages,  the  altering  hand  of  my  persecutors. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  59 

The  friendly  attendant,  from  whom  I  was  now  sepa- 
rated, tried  to  send  his  favors  after  me  into  my  new 
quarters.  At  first  he  came  in  person  to  see  me,  but 
the  superintendent  soon  forbade  that,  and  also  ordered 
him  not  to  communicate  with  me  in  any  way.  It  was 
this  disagreement,  and  others  naturally  arising  between 
such  a  doctor  and  such  an  attendant,  that  soon  brought 
about  the  discharge  of  the  latter.  But  "  discharge"  is 
hardly  the  word,  for  he  had  become  disgusted  with  the 
institution,  and  had  remained  so  long  only  because 
of  his  interest  in  me.  Upon  leaving,  he  informed  the 
owner  that  he  would  soon  cause  my  removal  from  the  in- 
stitution. This  he  did.  I  left  the  sanatorium  in  March, 
1 90 1,  and  remained  for  three  months  in  the  home  of  this 
kindly  fellow,  who  lived  with  a  grandmother  and  an 
aunt  in  Wallingford,  a  town  not  far  from  New  Haven. 

It  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  I  entertained  any  affection 
for  my  friendly  keeper.  I  continued  to  regard  him  as 
an  enemy;  and  my  life  at  his  home  became  a  monotonous 
round  of  displeasure.  I  took  my  three  meals  a  day.  I 
would  sit  listlessly  for  hours  at  a  time  in  the  house. 
Daily  I  went  out — accompanied,  of  course — for  short 
walks  about  the  town.  These  were  not  enjoyable.  I  be- 
lieved everybody  was  familiar  with  my  black  record  and 
expected  me  to  be  put  to  death.  Indeed,  I  wondered 
why  passers-by  did  not  revile  or  even  stone  me.  Once 
I  was  sure  I  heard  a  little  girl  call  me  "  Traitor ! "  That, 
I  believe,  was  my  last  "false  voice,"  but  it  made  such  an 
impression  that  I  can  even  now  recall  vividly  the  appear- 
ance of  that  dreadful  child.     It  was  not  surprising  that 


60  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  piece  of  rope,  old  and  frayed,  which  someone  had 
carelessly  thrown  on  a  hedge  by  a  cemetery  that  I 
sometimes  passed,  had  for  me  great  significance. 

During  these  three  months  I  again  refused  to  read 
books,  though  within  my  reach,  but  I  sometimes  read 
newspapers.  Still  I  would  not  speak,  except  under 
some  unusual  stress  of  emotion.  The  only  time  I  took 
the  initiative  in  this  regard  while  living  in  the  home 
of  my  attendant  was  on  a  bitterly  cold  and  snowy  day 
when  I  had  the  temerity  to  tell  him  that  the  wind  had 
blown  the  blanket  from  a  horse  that  had  been  standing 
for  a  long  time  in  front  of  the  house.  The  owner  had 
come  inside  to  transact  some  business  with  my  attend- 
ant's relatives.  In  appearance  he  reminded  me  of  the 
uncle  to  whom  this  book  is  dedicated.  I  imagined  the 
mysterious  caller  was  impersonating  him  and,  by  one  of 
my  curious  mental  processes,  I  deduced  that  it  was 
incumbent  on  me  to  do  for  the  dumb  beast  outside 
what  I  knew  my  uncle  would  have  done  had  he  been 
aware  of  its  plight.  My  reputation  for  decency  of  feel- 
ing I  believed  to  be  gone  forever;  but  I  could  not  bear, 
in  this  situation,  to  be  unworthy  of  my  uncle,  who, 
among  those  who  knew  him,  was  famous  for  his  kind- 
liness and  humanity. 

My  attendant  and  his  relatives  were  very  kind  and 
very  patient,  for  I  was  still  intractable.  But  their 
efforts  to  make  me  comfortable,  so  far  as  they  had 
any  effect,  made  keener  my  desire  to  kill  myself.  I 
shrank  from  death;  but  I  preferred  to  die  by  my 
own  hand  and  take  the  blame  for  it,  rather  than  to 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  61 

be  executed  and  bring  lasting  disgrace  on  my  family, 
friends,  and,  I  may  add  with  truth,  on  Yale.  For  I 
reasoned  that  parents  throughout  the  country  would 
withhold  their  sons  from  a  university  which  numbered 
among  its  graduates  such  a  despicable  being.  But 
from  any  tragic  act  I  was  providentially  restrained  by 
the  very  delusion  which  gave  birth  to  the  desire — in  a 
way  which  signally  appeared  on  a  later  and,  to  me,  a 
memorable  day. 


X 


I  am  in  a  position  not  unlike  that  of  a  man  whose 
obituary  notice  has  appeared  prematurely.  Few  have 
ever  had  a  better  opportunity  than  I  to  test  the  affection 
of  their  relatives  and  friends.  That  mine  did  their 
duty  and  did  it  willingly  is  naturally  a  constant  source 
of  satisfaction  to  me.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  this 
unbroken  record  of  devotion  is  one  of  the  factors  which 
eventually  made  it  possible  for  me  to  take  up  again  my 
duties  in  the  social  and  business  world,  with  a  comfort- 
able feeling  of  continuity.  I  can,  indeed,  now  view  my 
past  in  as  matter-of-fact  a  way  as  do  those  whose  lives 
have  been  uniformly  uneventful. 

As  I  have  seen  scores  of  patients  neglected  by  their 
relatives — a  neglect  which  they  resent  and  often  brood 
upon — my  sense  of  gratitude  is  the  livelier,  and  especially 
so  because  of  the  difficulty  with  which  friendly  inter- 
course with  me  was  maintained  during  two  of  the 
three  years  I  was  ill.  Relatives  and  friends  frequently 
called  to  see  me.  True,  these  calls  were  trying  for  all 
concerned.  I  spoke  to  none,  not  even  to  my  mother 
and  father.  For,  though  they  all  appeared  about  as 
they  used  to  do,  I  was  able  to  detect  some  slight  difference 
in  look  or  gesture  or  intonation  of  voice,  and  this  was 
enough  to  confirm  my  belief  that  they  were  imperson- 

62 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  63 

ators,  engaged  in  a  conspiracy,  not  merely  to  entrap 
me,  but  to  mcriminate  those  whom  they  impersonated. 
It  is  not  strange,  then,  that  I  refused  to  say  anything 
to  them,  or  to  permit  them  to  come  near  me.  To 
have  kissed  the  woman  who  was  my  mother,  but  whom 
I  believed  to  be  a  federal  conspirator,  would  have  been 
an  act  of  betrayal.  These  interviews  were  much  harder 
for  my  relatives  and  friends  than  for  me.  But  even 
for  me  they  were  ordeals ;  and  though  I  suffered  less  at 
these  moments  than  my  callers,  my  sum  of  suffering 
was  greater,  for  I  was  constantly  anticipating  these 
unwelcome,  but  eventually  beneficial,  visitations. 

Suppose  my  relatives  and  friends  had  held  aloof  during 
this  apparently  hopeless  period,  what  to-day  would  be 
my  feelings  toward  them?  Let  others  answer.  For 
over  two  years  I  considered  all  letters  forgeries.  Yet 
the  day  came  when  I  convinced  myself  of  their  genuine- 
ness and  the  genuineness  of  the  love  of  those  who  sent 
them.  Perhaps  persons  who  have  relatives  among  the 
more  than  a  quarter  of  a  million  patients  in  institu- 
tions in  this  country  to-day  will  find  some  comfort  in 
this  fact.  To  be  on  the  safe  and  humane  side,  let  every 
relative  and  friend  of  persons  so  afflicted  remember  the 
Golden  Rule,  which  has  never  been  suspended  with 
respect  to  the  insane.  Go  to  see  them,  treat  them 
sanely,  write  to  them,  keep  them  informed  about  the 
home  circle;  let  not  your  devotion  flag,  nor  accept 
any  repulse. 

The  consensus  now  was  that  my  condition  was  un- 
likely ever  to  improve,  and  the  question  of  my  commit- 


64  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

ment  to  some  institution  where  incurable  cases  could  be 
cared  for  came  up  for  decision.  While  it  was  being  con- 
sidered, my  attendant  kept  assuring  me  that  it  would  be 
unnecessary  to  commit  me  to  an  institution  if  I  would 
but  show  some  improvement.  So  he  repeatedly  sug- 
gested that  I  go  to  New  Haven  and  spend  a  day  at 
home.  At  this  time,  it  will  be  recalled,  I  was  all  but 
mute,  so,  being  unable  to  beguile  me  into  speech,  the 
attendant  one  morning  laid  out  for  my  use  a  more  fash- 
ionable shirt  than  I  usually  wore,  telling  me  to  put  it  on 
if  I  wished  to  make  the  visit.  That  day  it  took  me  an 
unusually  long  time  to  dress,  but  in  the  end  I  put  on  the 
designated  garment.  Thus  did  one  part  of  my  brain 
outwit  another. 

I  simply  chose  the  less  of  two  evils.  The  greater 
was  to  find  myself  again  committed  to  an  institution. 
Nothing  else  would  have  induced  me  to  go  to  New 
Haven.  I  did  not  wish  to  go.  To  my  best  knowledge 
and  belief,  I  had  no  home  there,  nor  did  I  have  any 
relatives  or  friends  who  would  greet  me  upon  my 
return.  How  could  they,  if  still  free,  even  approach 
me  while  I  was  surrounded  by  detectives?  Then,  too, 
I  had  a  lurking  suspicion  that  my  attendant's  offer  was 
made  in  the  belief  that  I  would  not  dare  accept  it.  By 
taking  him  at  his  word,  I  knew  that  I  should  at  least  have 
an  opportunity  to  test  the  truth  of  many  of  his  state- 
ments regarding  my  old  home.  Life  had  become  insup- 
portable; and  back  of  my  consent  to  make  this  experi- 
mental visit  was  a  willingness  to  beard  the  detectives  in 
their  own  den,  regardless  of  consequences.     With  these 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  65 

and  many  other  reflections  I  started  for  the  train.  The 
events  of  the  journey  which  followed  are  of  no  moment. 
We  soon  reached  the  New  Haven  station;  and,  as  I  had 
expected,  no  relative  or  friend  was  there  to  greet  us. 
This  apparent  indifference  seemed  to  support  my  suspi- 
cion that  my  attendant  had  not  told  me  the  truth;  but 
I  found  little  satisfaction  in  uncovering  his  deceit,  for 
the  more  of  a  liar  I  proved  him  to  be,  the  worse  would 
be  my  plight.  We  walked  to  the  front  of  the  station 
and  stood  there  for  almost  half  an  hour.  The  unfortu- 
nate, but  perfectly  natural,  wording  of  a  question  caused 
the  delay. 

"Well,  shall  we  go  home?"  my  attendant  said. 

How  could  I  say,  "Yes"?  I  had  no  home.  I  feel  sure 
I  should  finally  have  said,  "No,"  had  he  continued  to  put 
the  question  in  that  form.  Consciously  or  unconsciously, 
however,  he  altered  it.  "Shall  we  go  to  30  Trumbull 
Street?"  That  was  what  I  had  been  waiting  for.  Cer- 
tainly I  would  go  to  the  house  designated  by  that  num- 
ber. I  had  come  to  New  Haven  to  see  that  house;  and 
I  had  just  a  faint  hope  that  its  appearance  and  the 
appearance  of  its  occupants  might  prove  convincing. 

At  home  my  visit  came  as  a  complete  surprise.  I  could 
not  believe  that  my  relatives — if  they  were  relatives — had 
not  been  informed  of  my  presence  in  the  city,  and  their 
words  and  actions  upon  my  arrival  confirmed  my  suspicion 
and  extinguished  the  faint  hope  I  had  briefly  cherished. 
My  hosts  were  simply  the  same  old  persecutors  with 
whom  I  had  already  had  too  much  to  do.  Soon  after  my 
arrival,  dinner  was  served.     I  sat  at  my  old  place  at  the 


66  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

table,  and  secretly  admired  the  skill  with  which  he  who 
asked  the  blessing  imitated  the  language  and  the  well- 
remembered  intonation  of  my  father's  voice.  But  alas 
for  the  family! — I  imagined  my  relatives  banished  and 
languishing  in  prison,  and  the  old  home  confiscated  by 
the  government! 


XI 


Though  my  few  hours  at  home  failed  to  prove  that  I 
did  not  belong  in  an  institution,  it  served  one  good 
purpose.  Certain  relatives  who  had  objected  to  my 
commitment  now  agreed  that  there  was  no  alternative, 
and,  accordingly,  my  eldest  brother  caused  himself  to  be 
appointed  my  conservator.  He  had  long  favored  tak- 
ing such  action,  but  other  relatives  had  counseled  delay. 
They  had  been  deterred  by  that  inbred  dread  of  seeing  a 
member  of  the  family  branded  by  law  as  a  mental 
incompetent,  and,  to  a  degree,  stigmatized  by  the  pre- 
vailing unwarranted  attitude  of  the  public  toward 
mental  illness  and  the  institutions  in  which  mental  cases 
are  treated.  The  very  thought  was  repellent;  and  a 
mistaken  sense  of  duty — and  perhaps  a  suggestion  of 
pride — led  them  to  wish  me  out  of  such  an  institution  as 
long  as  possible. 

Though  at  the  time  I  dreaded  commitment,  it  was  the 
best  possible  thing  that  could  befall  me.  To  be,  as  I 
was,  in  the  world  but  not  of  it,  was  exasperating.  The 
constant  friction  that  is  inevitable  under  such  conditions 
— conditions  such  as  existed  for  me  in  the  home  of  my 
attendant — can  only  aggravate  the  mental  disturbance. 
Especially  is  this  true  of  those  laboring  under  delusions 
of  persecution.  Such  delusions  multiply  with  the  com- 
plexity of  the  life  led.     It  is  the  even-going  routine  of 

67 


6&  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

institutional  life  which  affords  the  indispensable  quieting 
effect — provided  that  routine  is  well  ordered,  and  not 
defeated  by  annoyances  imposed  by  ignorant  or  indif- 
ferent doctors  and  attendants. 

My  commitment  occurred  on  June  nth,  1901.  The 
institution  to  which  I  was  committed  was  a  chartered, 
private  institution,  but  not  run  for  personal  profit.  It 
was  considered  one  of  the  best  of  its  kind  in  the  country 
and  was  pleasantly  situated.  Though  the  view  was  a 
restricted  one,  a  vast  expanse  of  lawn,  surrounded  by 
groups  of  trees,  like  patches  of  primeval  forest,  gave  the 
place  an  atmosphere  which  was  not  without  its  remedial 
effect.  My  quarters  were  comfortable,  and  after  a 
little  time  I  adjusted  myself  to  my  new  environment. 

Breakfast  was  served  about  half-past  seven,  though 
the  hour  varied  somewhat  according  to  the  season — ear- 
lier in  summer  and  later  in  winter.  In  the  spring,  sum- 
mer, and  autumn,  when  the  weather  was  favorable,  those 
able  to  go  out  of  doors  were  taken  after  breakfast  for 
walks  within  the  grounds,  or  were  allowed  to  roam  about 
the  lawn  and  sit  under  the  trees,  where  they  remained  for 
an  hour  or  two  at  a  time.  Dinner  was  usually  served 
shortly  after  noon,  and  then  the  active  patients  were 
again  taken  out  of  doors,  where  they  remained  an  hour  or 
two  doing  much  as  they  pleased,  but  under  watchful  eyes. 
About  half-past  three  they  returned  to  their  respective 
wards,  there  to  remain  until  the  next  day — except  those 
who  cared  to  attend  the  religious  service  which  was  held 
almost  every  afternoon  in  an  endowed  chapel. 

In  all  institutions  those  confined  in  different  kinds  o£ 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  69 

wards  go  to  bed  at  different  hours.  The  patients  in  the 
best  wards  retire  at  nine  or  ten  o'clock.  Those  in  the 
wards  where  more  troublesome  cases  are  treated  go  to 
bed  usually  at  seven  or  eight  o'clock.  I,  while  under- 
going treatment,  have  retired  at  all  hours,  so  that  I  am 
in  the  better  position  to  describe  the  mysteries  of  what  is, 
in  a  way,  one  of  the  greatest  secret  societies  in  the  world. 
I  soon  became  accustomed  to  the  rather  agreeable 
routine,  and  had  I  not  been  burdened  with  the  delusions 
which  held  me  a  prisoner  of  the  police,  and  kept  me  a 
stranger  to  my  old  world,  I  should  have  been  able  to 
enjoy  a  comparatively  happy  existence  in  spite  of  all. 

This  new  feeling  of  comparative  contentment  had 
not  been  brought  about  by  any  marked  improvement 
in  health.  It  was  due  directly  and  entirely  to  an 
environment  more  nearly  in  tune  with  my  ill-tuned 
mind.  While  surrounded  by  sane  people  my  mental 
inferiority  had  been  painfully  apparent  to  me,  as  well 
as  to  others.  Here  a  feeling  of  superiority  easily  asserted 
itself,  for  many  of  my  associates  were,  to  my  mind, 
vastly  inferior  to  myself.  But  this  stimulus  did  not 
affect  me  at  once.  For  several  weeks  I  believed  the 
institution  to  be  peopled  by  detectives,  feigning  insanity. 
The  government  was  still  operating  the  Third  Degree, 
only  on  a  grander  scale.  Nevertheless,  I  did  soon 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  institution  was  what  it 
purported  to  be — still  cherishing  the  idea,  however,  that 
certain  patients  and  attaches  were  detectives. 

For  a  while  after  my  arrival  I  again  abandoned  my 
new-found  reading  habit.     But  as  I  became  accustomed 


70  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  my  surroundings  I  grew  bolder  and  resumed  the 
reading  of  newspapers  and  such  books  as  were  at  hand. 
There  was  a  bookcase  in  the  ward,  filled  with  old  numbers 
of  standard  English  periodicals;  among  them:  West- 
minster Review,  Edinburgh  Review,  London  Quarterly, 
and  Blackwood's.  There  were  also  copies  of  Harper's 
and  The  Atlantic  Monthly,  dated  a  generation  or  more 
before  my  first  reading  days.  Indeed,  some  of  the  re- 
views were  over  fifty  years  old.  But  I  had  to  read 
their  heavy  contents  or  go  without  reading,  for  I  would 
not  yet  ask  even  for  a  thing  I  ardently  desired.  In 
the  room  of  one  of  the  patients  were  thirty  or  forty 
books  belonging  to  him.  Time  and  again  I  walked  by 
his  door  and  cast  longing  glances  at  those  books, 
which  at  first  I  had  not  the  courage  to  ask  for  or  to  take. 
But  during  the  summer,  about  the  time  I  was  getting 
desperate,  I  finally  managed  to  summon  enough  courage 
to  take  them  surreptitiously.  It  was  usually  while  the 
owner  of  these  books  was  attending  the  daily  service  in 
the  chapel  that  his  library  became  a  circulating  one. 

The  contents  of  the  books  I  read  made  perhaps  a 
deeper  impression  on  my  memory  than  most  books  make 
on  the  minds  of  normal  readers.  To  assure  myself  of 
the  fact,  I  have  since  reread  "The  Scarlet  Letter,"  and 
I  recognize  it  as  an  old  friend.  The  first  part  of  the 
story,  however,  wherein  Hawthorne  describes  his  work 
as  a  Custom  House  official  and  portrays  his  literary 
personality,  seems  to  have  made  scarcely  any  impres- 
sion. This  I  attribute  to  my  utter  lack  of  interest 
at   that   time  in  writers  and  their  methods.     I  then 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  7 1 

had  no  desire  to  write  a  book,  nor  any  thought  of  ever 
doing  so. 

Letters  I  looked  upon  with  suspicion.  I  never  read 
them  at  the  time  they  were  received.  I  would  not  even 
open  them;  but  generally,  after  a  week  or  sometimes  a 
month,  I  would  secretly  open  and  read  them — forgeries  of 
the  detectives. 

I  still  refused  to  speak,  and  exhibited  physical  activity 
only  when  the  patients  were  taken  out  of  doors.  For 
hours  I  would  sit  reading  books  or  newspapers,  or  appar- 
ently doing  nothing.  But  my  mind  was  in  an  active 
state  and  very  sensitive.  As  the  event  proved,  almost 
everything  done  or  said  within  the  range  of  my  senses 
was  making  indelible  impressions,  though  these  at  the 
time  were  frequently  of  such  a  character  that  I  experi- 
enced great  difficulty  in  trying  to  recall  incidents  which 
I  thought  I  might  find  useful  at  the  time  of  my  appear- 
ance in  court. 

My  ankles  had  not  regained  anything  like  their  former 
strength.  It  hurt'  to  walk.  For  months  I  continued  to 
go  flat-footed.  I  could  not  sustain  my  weight  with  heels 
lifted  from  the  floor.  In  going  downstairs  I  had  to 
place  my  insteps  on  the  edge  of  each  step,  or  go  one  step 
at  a  time,  like  a  child.  Believing  that  the  detectives 
were  pampering  me  into  prime  condition,  as  a  butcher 
fattens  a  beast  for  slaughter,  I  deliberately  made  myself 
out  much  weaker  than  I  really  was;  and  not  a  little  of  my 
inactivity  was  due  to  a  desire  to  prolong  my  fairly  com- 
fortable existence,  by  deferring  as  long  as  possible  the 
day  of  trial  and  conspicuous  disgrace. 


72  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

But  each  day  still  had  its  distressing  incidents. 
Whenever  the  attendants  were  wanted  at  the  office, 
an  electric  bell  was  rung.  During  the  fourteen  months 
that  I  remained  in  this  hospital  in  a  depressed  con- 
dition, the  bell  in  my  ward  rang  several  hundred 
times.  Never  did  it  fail  to  send  through  me  a  mild 
shock  of  terror,  for  I  imagined  that  at  last  the  hour  had 
struck  for  my  transportation  to  the  scene  of  trial. 
Relatives  and  friends  would  be  brought  to  the  ward — 
heralded,  of  course,  by  a  warning  bell — and  short  inter- 
views would  be  held  in  my  room,  during  which  the 
visitors  had  to  do  all  the  talking.  My  eldest  brother, 
whom  I  shall  refer  to  hereafter  as  my  conservator,  called 
often.  He  seldom  failed  to  use  one  phrase  which 
worried  me. 

"You  are  looking  better  and  getting  stronger,"  he 
would  say.     "We  shall  straighten  you  out  yet." 

To  be  "straightened  out"  was  an  ambiguous  phrase 
which  might  refer  to  the  end  of  the  hangman's  rope  or 
to  a  fatal  electric  shock. 

I  preferred  to  be  let  alone,  and  the  assistant  physician 
in  charge  of  my  case,  after  several  ineffectual  attempts  to 
engage  me  in  conversation,  humored  my  persistent  taci- 
turnity. For  more  than  a  year  his  only  remarks  to  me 
were  occasional  conventional  salutations.  Subsequent 
events  have  led  me  to  doubt  the  wisdom  of  his  policy. 

For  one  year  no  further  attention  was  paid  to  me  than 
to  see  that  I  had  three  meals  a  day,  the  requisite  number 
of  baths,  and  a  sufficient  amount  of  exercise.  I  was, 
however,  occasionally  urged  by  an  attendant  to  write  a 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  73 

letter  to  some  relative,  but  that,  of  course,  I  refused  to 
do.  As  I  shall  have  many  hard  things  to  say  about 
attendants  in  general,  I  take  pleasure  in  testifying  that, 
so  long  as  I  remained  in  a  passive  condition,  those  at  this 
institution  were  kind,  and  at  times  even  thoughtful. 
But  there  came  a  time  when  diplomatic  relations  with 
doctors  and  attendants  became  so  strained  that  war 
promptly  ensued. 

It  was  no  doubt  upon  the  gradual,  but  sure  improve- 
ment in  my  physical  condition  that  the  doctors  were 
relying  for  my  eventual  return  to  normality.  They 
were  not  without  some  warrant  for  this.  In  a  way  I  had 
become  less  suspicious,  but  my  increased  confidence  was 
due  as  much  to  an  increasing  indifference  to  my  fate  as  to 
an  improvement  in  health  And  there  were  other  signs 
of  improved  mental  vigor.  I  was  still  watchful,  how- 
ever, for  a  chance  to  end  my  life,  and,  but  for  a  series 
of  fortunate  circumstances,  I  do  not  doubt  that  my 
choice  of  evils  would  have  found  tragic  expression  in  an 
overt  act. 

Having  convinced  myself  that  most  of  my  associates 
were  really  insane,  and  therefore  (as  I  believed)  dis- 
qualified as  competent  witnesses  in  a  court  of  law,  I 
would  occasionally  engage  in  conversation  with  a  few 
whose  evident  incompetency  seemed  to  make  them  safe 
confidants.  One,  a  man  who  during  his  life  had  more 
than  once  been  committed  to  an  institution,  took  a  very- 
evident  interest  in  me  and  persisted  in  talking  to  me, 
often  much  against  my  will.  His  persistent  inquisitive- 
ness  seemed  to  support  his  own  statement  that  he  had 


74  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

formerly  been  a  successful  life-insurance  agent.  He 
finally  gained  my  confidence  to  such  a  degree  that 
months  before  I  finally  began  to  talk  to  others  I  permitted 
myself  to  converse  frequently  with  him — but  only  when 
we  were  so  situated  as  to  escape  observation.  I  would 
talk  to  him  on  almost  any  subject,  but  would  not  speak 
about  myself.  At  length,  however,  his  admirable  per- 
sistence overcame  my  reticence.  During  a  conversation 
held  in  June,  1902,  he  abruptly  said,  "  Why  you  are  kept 
here  I  cannot  understand.  Apparently  you  are  as  sane 
as  anyone.  You  have  never  made  any  but  sensible 
remarks  to  me."  Now  for  weeks  I  had  been  waiting  for 
a  chance  to  tell  this  man  my  very  thoughts.  I  had  come 
to  believe  him  a  true  friend  who  would  not  betray  me. 

"If  I  should  tell  you  somethings  which  you  apparently 
don't  know,  you  would  understand  why  I  am  held  here," 
I  said. 

"Well,  tell  me/'  he  urged. 

"Will  you  promise  not  to  repeat  my  statements  to  any 
one  else?  " 

"I  promise  not  to  say  a  word." 

"Well,"  I  remarked,  "you  have  seen  certain  persons 
who  have  come  here,  professing  to  be  relatives  of  mine." 

"Yes,  and  they  are  your  relatives,  aren't  they?" 

"They  look  like  my  relatives,  but  they're  not,"  was 
my  reply. 

My  inquisitive  friend  burst  into  laughter  and  said, 
"Well,  if  you  mean  that,  I  shall  have  to  take  back  what 
I  just  said.  You  are  really  the  craziest  person  I  have 
ever  met,  and  I  have  met  several." 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  75 

"You  will  think  differently  some  day,"  I  replied;  for  I 
believed  that  when  my  trial  should  occur,  he  would  ap- 
preciate the  significance  of  my  remark.  I  did  not  tell 
him  that  I  believed  these  callers  to  be  detectives;  nor  did 
I  hint  that  I  thought  myself  in  the  hands  of  the 
police. 

Meanwhile,  during  July  and  August,  1902, 1  redoubled 
my  activity  in  devising  suicidal  schemes;  for  I  now 
thought  my  physical  condition  satisfactory  to  my  ene- 
mies, and  was  sure  that  my  trial  could  not  be  post- 
poned beyond  the  next  opening  of  the  courts  in  Septem- 
ber. I  even  went  so  far  as  to  talk  to  one  of  the  attend- 
ants, a  medical  student,  who  during  the  summer  worked 
'as  an  attendant  at  the  hospital.  I  approached  him 
artfully.  First  I  asked  him  to  procure  from  the  library 
for  me  aThe  Scarlet  Letter,"  "The  House  of  the  Seven 
Gables,"  and  other  books;  then  I  talked  medicine  and 
finally  asked  him  to  lend  me  a  textbook  on  anatomy 
which  I  knew  he  had  in  his  possession.  This  he  did, 
cautioning  me  not  to  let  anyone  know  that  he  had 
done  so.  The  book  once  secured,  I  lost  no  time  in 
examining  that  part  which  described  the  heart,  its 
functions,  and  especially  its  exact  position  in  the  body. 
I  had  scarcely  begun  to  read  when  the  young  man  re- 
turned and  took  the  book  from  me,  giving  as  his  reason 
that  an  attendant  had  no  right  to  let  a  patient  read  a 
medical  work.  Maybe  his  change  of  heart  was  provi- 
dential. 

As  is  usual  in  these  institutions,  all  knives,  forks,  and 
other  articles  that    might   be    used  by  a  patient  for 


76  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  dangerous  purpose  were  counted  by  the  attendants 
after  each  meal.  This  I  knew,  and  the  knowledge  had  a 
deterrent  effect.  I  dared  not  take  one.  Though  I  might 
at  any  time  during  the  night  have  hanged  myself,  that 
method  did  not  appeal  to  me,  and  I  kept  it  in  mind  only 
as  a  last  resort.  To  get  possession  of  some  sharp  dagger- 
like instrument  which  I  could  plunge  into  my  heart  at  a 
moment's  notice — this  was  my  consuming  desire.  With 
such  a  weapon  I  felt  that  I  could,  when  the  crisis  came, 
rob  the  detectives  of  their  victory.  During  the  summer 
months  an  employe  spent  his  entire  time  mowing  the 
lawn  with  a  large  horse-drawn  machine.  This,  when 
not  in  use,  was  often  left  outdoors.  Upon  it  was  a  square 
wooden  box,  containing  certain  necessary  tools,  among 
them  a  sharp,  spike-like  instrument,  used  to  clean  the 
oil-holes  when  they  became  clogged.  This  bit  of 
steel  was  five  or  six  inches  long,  and  was  shaped  like  a 
pencil.  For  at  least  three  months,  I  seldom  went  out 
of  doors  that  I  did  not  go  with  the  intention  of  purloin- 
ing that  steel  spike.  I  intended  then  to  keep  it  in  my 
room  against  the  day  of  my  anticipated  transfer  to  jail. 
It  was  now  that  my  delusions  protected  me  from  the 
very  fate  they  had  induced  me  to  court.  For  had  I  not. 
believed  that  the  eye  of  a  detective  was  on  me  every 
moment,  I  could  have  taken  that  spike  a  score  of  times. 
Often,  when  it  was  not  in  use,  I  walked  to  the  lawn- 
mower  and  even  laid  my  hand  upon  the  tool-box.  But 
I  dared  not  open  it.  My  feelings  were  much  like  those 
of  Pandora  about  a  certain  other  box.  In  my  case, 
however,  the  box  upon  which  I  looked  with  longing 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  77 

had    Hope    without,    and    not   within.      Instinctively, 
perhaps,  I  realized  this,  for  I  did  not  lift  the  lid. 

One  day,  as  the  patients  were  returning  to  their  wards, 
I  saw,  lying  directly  in  my  path  (I  could  even  now  point 
out  the  spot),  the  coveted  weapon.  Never  have  I  seen 
anything  that  I  wanted  more.  To  have  stooped  and 
picked  it  up  without  detection  would  have  been  easy; 
and  had  I  known,  as  I  know  now,  that  it  had  been 
carelessly  dropped  there,  nothing  could  have  prevented 
me  from  doing  so  and  perhaps  using  it  with  fatal  effect. 
But  I  believed  it  had  been  placed  there  deliberately  and 
as  a  test,  by  those  who  had  divined  my  suicidal  purpose. 
The  eye  of  the  imagined  detective,  which,  I  am  inclined 
to  believe,  and  like  to  believe,  was  the  eye  of  the  real 
God,  was  upon  me;  and  though  I  stepped  directly  over 
it,  I  did  not  pick  up  that  thing  of  death. 


XII 


When  I  had  decided  that  my  chance  for  securing  the 
little  stiletto  spike  was  very  uncertain,  I  at  once  busied 
myself  with  plans  which  were  designed  to  bring  about  my 
death  by  drowning.  There  was  in  the  ward  a  large 
bath  tub.  Access  to  it  could  be  had  at  any  time,  except 
from  the  hour  of  nine  (when  the  patients  were  locked 
in  their  rooms  for  the  night)  until  the  following  morn- 
ing. How  to  reach  it  during  the  night  was  the  prob- 
lem which  confronted  me.  The  attendant  in  charge 
was  supposed  to  see  that  each  patient  was  in  his  room 
before  his  door  was  locked.  As  it  rarely  happened  that 
the  patients  were  not  in  their  rooms  at  the  appointed 
time,  the  attendants  naturally  grew  careless,  and  often 
locked  a  door  without  looking  in.  "Good  night" — a 
salutation  usually  devoid  of  sentiment — might,  or  might 
not,  elicit  a  response,  and  the  absence  of  a  response 
would  not  tend  to  arouse  suspicion — especially  in  a  case 
like  mine,  for  I  would  sometimes  say  "good  night,"  but 
more  often  not. 

My  simple  and  easy  plan  was  to  hide  behind  a  piece  of 
furniture  in  the  corridor  and  there  remain  until  the 
attendant  had  locked  the  doors  of  the  rooms  and  gone 
to  bed.  I  had  even  advanced  so  far  in  my  plan 
as  to  select  a  convenient  nook  within  twenty  feet 
of  my  own  room.     Should  the  attendant,  when  about 

78 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  79 

to  lock  the  door,  discover  my  absence,  I  should, 
of  course,  immediately  reveal  my  hiding-place  by  leav- 
ing it;  and  it  would  have  been  an  easy  matter  to 
convince  him  that  I  had  done  the  thing  as  a  test  of  his 
own  vigilance.  On  the  other  hand,  if  I  escaped  dis- 
covery, I  should  then  have  nine  hours  at  my  disposal 
with  little  fear  of  interruption.  True,  the  night  watch 
passed  through  the  ward  once  every  hour.  But  death 
by  drowning  requires  a  time  no  longer  than  that  neces- 
sary to  boil  an  egg.  I  had  even  calculated  how  long  it 
would  take  to  fill  the  tub  with  water.  To  make  sure  of 
a  fatal  result,  I  had  secreted  a  piece  of  wire  which  I 
intended  so  to  use  that  my  head,  once  under  water,  could 
by  no  possibility  be  raised  above  the  surface  in  the 
inevitable  death  struggle. 

I  have  said  that  I  did  not  desire  death;  nor  did  I. 
Had  the  supposed  detectives  been  able  to  convince  me 
that  they  would  keep  their  word,  I  would  willingly  have 
signed  an  agreement  stipulating  on  my  side  that  I  must 
live  the  rest  of  my  life  in  confinement,  and  on  theirs 
that  I  should  never  undergo  a  trial  for  crime. 

Fortunately,  during  these  dismal  preparations,  I  had 
not  lost  interest  in  other  schemes  which  probably  saved 
my  life.  In  these  the  fellow-patient  who  had  won  my 
confidence  played  the  role  of  my  own  private  detective. 
That  he  and  I  could  defeat  the  combined  forces  arrayed 
against  me  hardly  seemed  probable,  but  the  seeming 
impossibility  of  so  doing  only  lent  zest  to  the  under- 
taking. My  friend,  who,  of  course,  did  not  realize  that 
he  was  engaged  in  combat  with  the  Secret  Service,  was 


80  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

allowed  to  go  where  he  pleased  within  the  limits  of  the 
city  where  the  hospital  was  situated.  Accordingly 
I  determined  to  enlist  his  services.  It  was  during  July 
that,  at  my  suggestion,  he  tried  to  procure  copies  of 
certain  New  Haven  newspapers,  of  the  date  of  my 
attempted  suicide  and  the  several  dates  immediately  fol- 
lowing. My  purpose  was  to  learn  what  motive  had  been 
ascribed  to  my  suicidal  act.  I  felt  sure  that  the  papers 
would  contain  at  least  hints  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
criminal  charges  against  me.  But  my  purpose  I  did 
not  disclose  to  my  friend.  In  due  time  he  reported  that 
no  copies  for  the  given  dates  were  to  be  had.  So  that 
quest  proved  fruitless,  and  I  attributed  the  failure  to 
the  superior  strategy  of  the  enemy. 

Meanwhile,  my  friend  had  not  stopped  trying  to 
convince  me  that  my  apparent  relatives  were  not  spu- 
rious; so  one  day  I  said  to  him:  "If  my  relatives  still 
live  in  New  Haven,  their  addresses  must  be  in  the 
latest  New  Haven  Directory.  Here  is  a  list  containing 
the  names  and  former  addresses  of  my  father,  brother, 
and  uncle.  These  were  their  addresses  in  1900. 
To-morrow,  when  you  go  out,  please  see  whether  they 
appear  in  the  New  Haven  Directory  for  1902.  These 
persons  who  present  themselves  to  me  as  relatives 
pretend  to  live  at  these  addresses.  If  they  speak  the 
truth,  the  1902  Directory  will  corroborate  them.  I  shall 
then  have  hope  that  a  letter  sent  to  any  one  of  these 
addresses  will  reach  relatives — and  surely  some  atten- 
tion will  be  paid  to  it." 

The  next  day,  my  own  good  detective  went  to  a  local 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  81 

publishing  house  where  directories  of  important  cities 
throughout  the  country  could  be  consulted.  Shortly 
after  he  went  upon  this  errand,  my  conservator 
appeared.  He  found  me  walking  about  the  lawn. 
At  his  suggestion  we  sat  down.  Bold  in  the  assurance 
that  I  could  kill  myself  before  the  crisis  came,  I  talked 
with  him  freely,  replying  to  many  of  his  questions 
and  asking  several.  My  conservator,  who  did  not  know 
that  I  doubted  his  identity,  commented  with  manifest 
pleasure  on  my  new-found  readiness  to  talk.  He  would 
have  been  less  pleased,  however,  had  he  been  able  to 
read  my  mind. 

Shortly  after  my  conservator's  departure,  my  fellow- 
patient  returned  and  informed  me  that  the  latest  New 
Haven  Directory  contained  the  names  and  addresses  I 
had  given  him.  This  information,  though  it  did  not 
prove  that  my  morning  caller  was  no  detective,  did 
convince  me  that  my  real  brother  still  lived  where  he  did 
when  I  left  New  Haven,  two  years  earlier.  Now  that  my 
delusions  were  growing  weaker,  my  returning  reason 
enabled  me  to  construct  the  ingenious  scheme  which, 
I  believe,  saved  my  life;  for,  had  I  not  largely  regained 
my  reason  when  I  did,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that 
my  distraught  mind  would  have  destroyed  itself  and  me, 
before  it  could  have  been  restored  by  the  slow  process  of 
returning  health. 

A  few  hours  after  my  own  private  detective  had  given 
me  the  information  I  so  much  desired,  I  wrote  the  first 
letter  I  had  written  in  twenty-six  months.  As  letters  go, 
it  is  in  a  class  by  itself.  I  dared  not  ask  for  ink,  so  I  wrote 


82  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

with  a  lead  pencil.  Another  fellow-patient  in  whom  I  had 
confidence,  at  my  request,  addressed  the  envelope;  but  he 
was  not  in  the  secret  of  its  contents.  This  was  an 
added  precaution,  for  I  thought  the  Secret  Service  men 
might  have  found  out  that  I  had  a  detective  of  my  own 
and  would  confiscate  any  letters  addressed  by  him  or 
me.  The  next  morning,  my  " detective"  mailed  the 
letter.  That  letter  I  still  have,  and  I  treasure  it  as 
any  innocent  man  condemned  to  death  would  treasure 
a  pardon.  It  should  convince  the  reader  that  some- 
times a  mentally  disordered  person,  even  one  suffering 
from  many  delusions,  can  think  and  write  clearly.  An 
exact  copy  of  this — the  most  important  letter  I  ever 
expect  to  be  called  upon  to  write — is  here  presented: 

August  29,  1902. 
Dear  George: 

On  last  Wednesday  morning  a  person  who  claimed  to  be  George 
M.  Beers  of  New  Haven,  Ct.,  clerk  in  the  Director's  Office  of  the 
Sheffield  Scientific  School  and  a  brother  of  mine,  called  to  see  me. 

Perhaps  what  he  said  was  true,  but  after  the  events  of  the  last 
two  years  I  find  myself  inclined  to  doubt  the  truth  of  everything 
that  is  told  me.  He  said  that  he  would  come  and  see  me  again 
sometime  next  week,  and  I  am  sending  you  this  letter  in  order  that 
you  may  bring  it  with  you  as  a  passport,  provided  you  are  the  one 
who  was  here  on  Wednesday. 

If  you  did  not  call  as  stated  please  say  nothing  about  this  letter 
to  anyone,  and  when  your  double  arrives,  I'll  tell  him  what  I  think 
of  him.  Would  send  other  messages,  but  while  things  seem  as 
they  do  at  present  it  is  impossible.  Have  had  someone  else 
address  envelope  for  fear  letter  might  be  held  up  on  the  way. 

Yours, 

Clifford  W.  B. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  83 

Though  I  felt  reasonably  confident  that  this  message 
would  reach  my  brother,  I  was  by  no  means  certain. 
I  was  sure,  however,  that,  should  he  receive  it,  under  no 
circumstances  would  he  turn  it  over  to  anyone  hostile  to 
myself.  When  I  wrote  the  words:  "Dear  George," 
my  feeling  was  much  like  that  of  a  child  who  sends  a 
letter  to  Santa  Claus  after  his  childish  faith  has  been 
shaken.  Like  the  skeptical  child,  I  felt  there  was  noth- 
ing to  lose,  but  everything  to  gain.  " Yours"  fully 
expressed  such  affection  for  relatives  as  I  was  then 
capable  of  —  for  the  belief  that  I  had  disgraced,  per- 
haps destroyed,  my  family  prompted  me  to  forbear  to 
use  the  family  name  in  the  signature. 

The  thought  that  I  might  soon  get  in  touch  with  my 
old  world  did  not  excite  me.  I  had  not  much  faith  any- 
way that  I  was  to  re-establish  former  relations  with  it, 
and  what  little  faith  I  had  was  all  but  destroyed  on  the 
morning  of  August  30th,  1902,  when  a  short  message, 
written  on  a  slip  of  paper,  reached  me  by  the  hand  of  an 
attendant.  It  informed  me  that  my  conservator  would  call 
that  afternoon.  I  thought  it  a  lie.  I  felt  that  any  brother 
of  mine  would  have  taken  the  pains  to  send  a  letter  in 
reply  to  the  first  I  had  written  him  in  over  two  years. 
The  thought  that  there  had  not  been  time  for  him  to  do 
so  and  that  this  message  must  have  arrived  by  tele- 
phone did  not  then  occur  to  me.  What  I  believed  was 
that  my  own  letter  had  been  confiscated.  I  asked 
one  of  the  doctors  to  swear  on  his  honor  that  it  really  was 
my  own  brother  who  was  coming  to  see  me.  This  he  did. 
But  abnormal  suspicion  robbed  all  men  in  my  sight  of 


84  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

whatever  honor  they  may  have  had,  and  I  was  not  fully 
reassured. 

In  the  afternoon,  as  usual,  the  patients  were  taken 
out  of  doors,  I  among  them.  I  wandered  about  the 
lawn  and  cast  frequent  and  expectant  glances  toward 
the  gate,  through  which  I  believed  my  anticipated  visitor 
would  soon  pass.  In  less  than  an  hour  he  appeared. 
I  first  caught  sight  of  him  about  three  hundred  feet 
away,  and,  impelled  more  by  curiosity  than  hope,  I 
advanced  to  meet  him.  "I  wonder  what  the  lie  will  be 
this  time,"  was  the  gist  of  my  thoughts. 

The  person  approaching  me  was  indeed  the  counter- 
part of  my  brother  as  I  remembered  him.  Yet  he  was  no 
more  my  brother  than  he  had  been  at  any  time  during  the 
preceding  two  years.  He  was  still  a  detective.  Such  he 
was  when  I  shook  his  hand.  As  soon  as  that  ceremony 
was  over,  he  drew  forth  a  leather  pocketbook.  I  instantly 
recognized  it  as  one  I  myself  had  carried  for  several 
years  prior  to  the  time  I  was  taken  ill  in  1900.  It  was 
from  this  that  he  took  my  recent  letter. 

" Here's  my  passport,"  he  said. 

"It's  a  good  thing  you  brought  it,"  I  replied,  as  I 
glanced  at  it  and  again  shook  his  hand — this  time  the 
hand  of  my  own  brother. 

"Don't  you  want  to  read  it?"  he  asked. 

"There  is  no  need  of  that.     I  am  convinced." 

After  my  long  journey  of  exploration  in  the  jungle  of  a 
tangled  imagination,  a  journey  which  finally  ended  in  my 
finding  the  person  for  whom  I  had  long  searched,  my  be- 
havior differed  very  little  from  that  of  a  great  explorer 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  85 

who,  full  of  doubt  after  a  long  and  perilous  trip  through 
real  jungles,  found  the  man  he  sought  and,  grasping  his 
hand,  greeted  him  with  the  simple  and  historic  words, 
"Dr.  Livingstone,  I  presume?" 

The  very  instant  I  caught  sight  of  my  letter  in  the 
hands  of  my  brother,  all  was  changed.  The  thousands  of 
false  impressions  recorded  during  the  seven  hundred  and 
ninety-eight  days  of  my  depression  seemed  at  once  to 
correct  themselves.  Untruth  became  Truth.  A  large 
part  of  what  was  once  my  old  world  was  again  mine. 
To  me,  at  least,  my  mind  seemed  to  have  found  itself,  for 
the  gigantic  web  of  false  beliefs  in  which  it  had  been 
all  but  hopelessly  enmeshed  I  now  immediately  recog- 
nized as  a  snare  of  delusions.  That  the  Gordian  knot 
of  mental  torture  should  be  cut  and  swept  away  by  the 
mere  glance  of  a  willing  eye  is  like  3  miracle.  Not  a 
few  patients,  however,  suffering  from  certain  forms  of 
mental  disorder,  regain  a  high  degree  of  insight  into  their 
mental  condition  in  what  might  be  termed  a  flash  of  di- 
vine enlightenment.  Though  insight  regained  seemingly 
in  an  instant  is  a  most  encouraging  symptom,  power  to 
reason  normally  on  all  subjects  cannot,  of  course,  be  so 
promptly  recovered.  My  new  power  to  reason  cor- 
rectly on  some  subjects  simply  marked  the  transition 
from  depression,  one  phase  of  my  disorder,  to  elation, 
another  phase  of  it.  Medically  speaking,  I  was  as 
mentally  disordered  as  before — yet  I  was  happy! 

My  memory  during  depression  may  be  likened  to  a 
photographic  film,  seven  hundred  and  ninety-eight  days 
long.     Each  impression  seems  to  have  been  made  in  a 


&6  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

negative  way  and  then,  in  a  fraction  of  a  second,  miracu- 
lously developed  and  made  positive.  Of  hundreds  of 
impressions  made  during  that  depressed  period  I  had 
not  before  been  conscious,  but  from  the  moment  my 
mind,  if  not  my  full  reason,  found  itself,  they  stood  out 
vividly.  Not  only  so,  but  other  impressions  registered 
during  earlier  years  became  clearer.  Since  that  August 
30th,  which  I  regard  as  my  second  birthday  (my  first  was 
on  the  30th  of  another  month),  my  mind  has  exhibited 
qualities  which,  prior  to  that  time,  were  so  latent  as  to 
be  scarcely  distinguishable.  As  a  result,  I  find  myself 
able  to  do  desirable  things  I  never  before  dreamed  of 
doing — the  writing  of  this  book  is  one  of  them. 

Yet  had  I  failed  to  convince  myself  on  August  30th, 
when  my  brother  came  to  see  me,  that  he  was  no  spy,  I 
am  almost  sure  that  I  should  have  compassed  my  own 
destruction  within  the  following  ten  days,  for  the  next 
month,  I  believed,  was  the  fatal  one  of  opening  courts. 
You  will  recall  that  it  was  death  by  drowning  that 
impended.  I  liken  my  salvation  itself  to  a  prolonged 
process  of  drowning.  Thousands  of  minutes  of  the  seven 
hundred  and  ninety-eight  days — and  there  were  over  one 
million  of  them,  during  which  I  had  been  borne  down  by 
intolerably  burdensome  delusions — were,  I  imagine,  much 
like  the  last  minutes  of  consciousness  experienced  by  per- 
sons who  drown.  Many  who  have  narrowly  escaped 
that  fate  can  testify  to  the  vividness  with  which  good 
and  bad  impressions  of  their  entire  life  rush  through 
their  confused  minds,  and  hold  them  in  a  grip  of  terror 
until  a  kind    unconsciousness    envelops   them.    Such 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  87 

had  been  many  of  my  moments.  But  the  only  uncon- 
sciousness which  had  deadened  my  sensibilities  during 
these  two  despondent  years  was  that  of  sleep  itself. 
Though  I  slept  fairly  well  most  of  the  time,  mine 
was  seldom  a  dreamless  sleep.  Many  of  my  dreams 
were,  if  anything,  harder  to  bear  than  my  delusions  of 
the  day,  for  what  little  reason  I  had  was  absolutely 
suspended  in  sleep.  Almost  every  night  my  brain  was 
at  battledore  and  shuttlecock  with  weird  thoughts. 
And  if  not  all  my  dreams  were  terrifying,  this  fact  seemed 
to  be  only  because  a  perverted  and  perverse  Reason,  in 
order  that  its  possessor  might  not  lose  the  capacity  for 
suffering,  knew  how  to  keep  Hope  alive  with  visions 
which  supplied  the  contrast  necessary  for  keen  apprecia- 
tion. 

No  man  can  be  born  again,  but  I  believe  I  came  as 
near  it  as  ever  a  man  did.  To  leave  behind  what  was  in 
reality  a  hell,  and  immediately  have  this  good  green 
earth  revealed  in  more  glory  than  most  men  ever  see  it, 
was  one  of  the  compensating  privileges  which  make 
me  feel  that  my  suffering  was  worth  while. 

I  have  already  described  the  peculiar  sensation  which 
assailed  me  when,  in  June,  1900,  I  lost  my  reason. 
At  that  time  my  brain  felt  as  though  pricked  by  a 
million  needles  at  white  heat.  On  this  August  30th, 
1902,  shortly  after  largely  regaining  my  reason,  I  had 
another  most  distinct  sensation  in  the  brain.  It  started 
under  my  brow  and  gradually  spread  until  the  entire 
surface  was  affected.  The  throes  of  a  dying  Reason  had 
been  torture.    The  sensations  felt  as  my  dead  Reason 


88  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

was  reborn  were  delightful.  It  seemed  as  though  the 
refreshing  breath  of  some  kind  Goddess  of  Wisdom  were 
being  gently  blown  against  the  surface  of  my  brain.  It 
was  a  sensation  not  unlike  that  produced  by  a  menthol 
pencil  rubbed  ever  so  gently  over  a  fevered  brow.  So 
delicate,  so  crisp  and  exhilarating  was  it  that  words  fail 
me  in  my  attempt  to  describe  it.  Few,  if  any,  experiences 
can  be  more  delightful.  If  the  exaltation  produced  by 
some  drugs  is  anything  like  it,  I  can  easily  understand 
how  and  why  certain  pernicious  habits  enslave  those  who 
contract  them.  For  me,  however,  this  experience  was 
liberation,  not  enslavement. 


XIII 

After  two  years  of  silence  I  found  it  no  easy  matter  to 
carry  on  with  my  brother  a  sustained  conversation.  So 
weak  were  my  vocal  cords  from  lack  of  use  that  every 
few  minutes  I  must  either  rest  or  whisper.  And  upon 
pursing  my  lips  I  found  myself  unable  to  whistle,  not- 
withstanding the  popular  belief,  drawn  from  vague 
memories  of  small-boyhood,  that  this  art  is  instinctive. 
Those  who  all  their  lives  have  talked  at  will  cannot 
possibly  appreciate  the  enjoyment  I  found  in  using  my 
regained  power  of  speech.  Reluctantly  I  returned  to 
the  ward;  but  not  until  my  brother  had  left  for  home, 
laden  with  so  much  of  my  conversation  that  it  took  most 
of  his  leisure  for  the  next  two  days  to  tell  the  family 
what  I  had  said  in  two  hours. 

During  the  first  few  hours  I  seemed  virtually  normal. 
I  had  none  of  the  delusions  which  had  previously 
oppressed  me;  nor  had  I  yet  developed  any  of  the 
expansive  ideas,  or  delusions  of  grandeur,  which  soon 
began  to  crowd  in  upon  me.  So  normal  did  I  appear 
while  talking  to  my  brother  that  he  thought  I  should  be 
able  to  return  home  in  a  few  weeks ;  and,  needless  to  say, 
I  agreed  with  him.  But  the  pendulum,  as  it  were,  had 
swung  too  far.  The  human  brain  is  too  complex  a 
mechanism  to  admit  of  any  such  complete  readjustment 
in  an  instant.  It  is  said  to  be  composed  of  several  million 
cells;   and,  that  fact  granted,  it  seems  safe  to  say  that 

89 


00  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

every  day,  perhaps  every  hour,  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  the  cells  of  my  brain  were  now  being  brought  into 
a  state  of  renewed  activity.  Comparatively  sane  and 
able  to  recognize  the  important  truths  of  life,  I  was  yet 
insane  as  to  many  of  its  practical  details.  Judgment 
being  King  of  the  Realm  of  Thought,  it  was  not  sur- 
prising that  my  judgment  failed  often  to  decide  correctly 
the  many  questions  presented  to  it  by  its  abnormally 
communicative  subjects.  At  first  I  seemed  to  live  a 
second  childhood.     I  did  with  delight  many  things  which 

1  had  first  learned  to  do  as  a  child — the  more  so  as  it 
had  been  necessary  for  me  to  learn  again  to  eat  and  walk, 
and  now  to  talk.  I  had  much  lost  time  to  make  up; 
and  for  a  while  my  sole  ambition  seemed  to  be  to  utter 
as  many  thousand  words  a  day  as  possible.  My  fellow- 
patients  who  for  fourteen  months  had  seen  me  walk 
about  in  silence — a  silence  so  profound  and  inexorable 
that  I  would  seldom  heed  their  friendly  salutations — 
were  naturally  surprised  to  see  me  in  my  new  mood  of 
unrestrained  loquacity  and  irrepressible  good  humor. 
In  short,  I  had  come  into  that  abnormal  condition  which 
is  known  to  psychiatrists  as  elation. 

For  several  weeks  I  believe  I  did  not  sleep  more  than 
two  or  three  hours  a  night.  Such  was  my  state  of  elation, 
however,  that  all  signs  of  fatigue  were  entirely  absent; 
and  the  sustained  and  abnormal  mental  and  physical 
activity  in  which  I  then  indulged  has  left  on  my  mem- 
ory no  other  than  a  series  of  very  pleasant  impressions. 
Though  based  on  fancy,  the  delights  of  some  forms  of 
mental  disorder  are  real.     Few,  if  any,  sane  persons 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  91 

would  care  to  test  the  matter  at  so  great  a  price;  but 
those  familiar  with  the  "  Letters  of  Charles  Lamb  "  must 
know  that  Lamb,  himself,  underwent  treatment  for 
mental  disease.  In  a  letter  to  Coleridge,  dated  June 
10th,  1796,  he  says:  "At  some  future  time  I  will  amuse 
you  with  an  account,  as  full  as  my  memory  will  permit, 
of  the  strange  turns  my  frenzy  took.  I  look  back  upon 
it  at  times  with  a  gloomy  kind  of  envy;  for,  while  it 
lasted,  I  had  many,  many  hours  of  pure  happiness. 
Dream  not,  Coleridge,  of  having  tasted  all  the  grandeur 
and  wildness  of  Fancy  till  you  have  gone  mad!  All 
now  seems  to  me  vapid,  comparatively  so!" 

As  for  me,  the  very  first  night  vast  but  vague  human- 
itarian projects  began  joyously  to  shape  themselves  in 
my  mind.  My  garden  of  thoughts  seemed  filled 
with  flowers  which  might  properly  be  likened  to  the 
quick-blowing  night-blooming  cereus — that  Delusion  of 
Grandeur  of  all  flowering  plants  that  thinks  itself 
prodigal  enough  if  it  but  unmask  its  beauty  to  the 
moon!  Few  of  my  bold  fancies,  however,  were  of  so 
fugitive  and  chaste  a  splendor. 

The  religious  instinct  is  found  in  primitive  man.  It  is 
not  strange,  therefore,  that  at  this  time  the  religious  side 
of  my  nature  was  the  first  to  display  compelling  activity. 
Whether  or  not  this  was  due  to  my  rescue  from  a  living 
death,  and  my  immediate  appreciation  of  God's  good- 
ness, both  to  me  and  to  those  faithful  relatives  who  had 
done  all  the  praying  during  the  preceding  two  years — ■ 
this  I  cannot  say.  But  the  fact  stands  out,  that,  whereas 
I  had,  while  depressed,  attached  a  sinister  significance 


92  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  everything  done  or  said  in  my  presence,  I  now  inter- 
preted the  most  trifling  incidents  as  messages  from 
God.  The  day  after  this  transition  I  attended  church. 
It  was  the  first  service  in  over  two  years  which  I  had 
not  attended  against  my  will.  The  reading  of  a  psalm 
— the  45th  —  made  a  lasting  impression  upon  me,  and 
the  interpretation  which  I  placed  upon  it  furnishes 
the  key  to  my  attitude  during  the  first  weeks  of  elation. 
It  seemed  to  me  a  direct  message  from  Heaven. 

The  minister  began:  "My  heart  is  inditing  a  good  mat- 
ter :  I  speak  of  the  things  which  I  have  made  touching  the 
king:  my  tongue  is  the  pen  of  a  ready  writer." — Whose 
heart  but  mine?  And  the  things  indited — what  were 
they  but  the  humanitarian  projects  which  had  blossomed 
in  my  garden  of  thoughts  over  night?  When,  a  few  days 
later,  I  found  myself  writing  very  long  letters  with  un- 
wonted facility,  I  became  convinced  that  my  tongue  was 
to  prove  itself  "the  pen  of  a  ready  writer."  Indeed,  to 
these  prophetic  words  I  trace  the  inception  of  an  irresist- 
ible desire,  of  which  this  book  is  the  first  fruit. 

"Thou  art  fairer  than  the  children  of  men;  grace  is 
poured  into  thy  lips:"  was  the  verse  next  read  (by 
myself  and  the  congregation),  to  which  the  minister 
responded,  "Therefore  God  hath  blessed  thee  for  ever." 
— "Surely,  I  have  been  selected  as  the  instrument  where- 
with great  reforms  shall  be  effected,"  was  my  thought. 
(All  is  grist  that  comes  to  the  mill  of  a  mind  in  elation — 
then  even  divine  encomiums  seem  not  undeserved.) 

"  Gird  thy  sword  upon  thy  thigh,  0  most  mighty,  with 
thy  glory  and  thy  majesty" — a   command   to   fight. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  93 

"And  in  thy  majesty  ride  prosperously  because  of  truth 
and  meekness  and  righteousness;"  replied  the  minister. 
"And  thy  right  hand  shall  teach  thee  terrible  things," 
— was  another  response.  That  I  could  speak  the  truth,  I 
knew.  "Meekness"  I  could  not  associate  with  myself, 
except  that  during  the  preceding  two  years  I  had  suffered 
many  indignities  without  open  resentment.  That  my 
right  hand  with  a  pen  should  teach  me  terrible  things — 
how  to  fight  for  reform — I  firmly  believed. 

"Thine  arrows  are  sharp  in  the  heart  of  the  King's 
enemies,  whereby  the  people  fall  under  thee,"  quoth  the 
minister.  Yes,  my  tongue  could  be  as  sharp  as  an  arrow, 
and  I  should  be  able  to  stand  up  against  those  who  should 
stand  in  the  way  of  reform.  Again:  "Thou  lovest  right- 
eousness, and  hatest  wickedness.  Therefore  God,  thy 
God,  hath  anointed  thee  with  the  oil  of  gladness  above 
thy  fellows."  The  first  sentence  I  did  not  apply  to  my- 
self; but  being  then,  as  I  supposed,  a  man  restored  to 
himself,  it  was  easy  to  feel  that  I  had  been  anointed  with 
the  oil  of  gladness  above  my  fellows.  "Oil  of  gladness" 
is,  in  truth,  an  apt  phrase  wherewith  to  describe  elation. 

The  last  two  verses  of  the  psalm  corroborated  the  mes- 
sages found  in  the  preceding  verses:  "I  will  make  thy 
name  to  be  remembered  in  all  generations:" — thus  the 
minister.  "Therefore  shall  the  people  praise  thee  for 
ever  and  ever,"  was  the  response  I  read.  That  spelled 
immortal  fame  for  me,  but  only  on  condition  that  I 
should  carry  to  a  successful  conclusion  the  mission  of 
reform — an  obligation  placed  upon  me  by  God  when 
He  restored  my  reason. 


94  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

When  I  set  out  upon  a  career  of  reform,  I  was  impelled 
to  do  so  by  motives  in  part  like  those  which  seem  to 
have  possessed  Don  Quixote  when  he  set  forth,  as 
Cervantes  says,  with  the  intention  "of  righting  every 
kind  of  wrong,  and  exposing  himself  to  peril  and  danger, 
from  which  in  the  issue  he  would  obtain  eternal  renown 
and  fame."  In  likening  myself  to  Cervantes'  mad  hero 
my  purpose  is  quite  other  than  to  push  myself  within 
the  charmed  circle  of  the  chivalrous.  What  I  wish  to 
do  is  to  make  plain  that  a  man  abnormally  elated  may 
be  swayed  irresistibly  by  his  best  instincts,  and  that 
while  under  the  spell  of  an  exaltation,  idealistic  in  de- 
gree, he  may  not  only  be  willing,  but  eager  to  assume 
risks  and  endure  hardships  which  under  normal  con- 
ditions he  would  assume  reluctantly,  if  at  all.  In  justice 
to  myself,  however,  I  may  remark  that  my  plans  for 
reform  have  never  assumed  quixotic,  and,  therefore,  im- 
practicable, proportions.  At  no  time  have  I  gone  a-tilt- 
ing  at  windmills.  A  pen  rather  than  a  lance  has  been 
my  weapon  of  offence  and  defence;  for  with  its  point 
I  have  felt  sure  that  I  should  one  day  prick  the  civic 
conscience  into  a  compassionate  activity,  and  thus  bring 
into  a  neglected  field  earnest  men  and  women  who 
should  act  as  champions  for  those  afflicted  thousands 
least  able  to  fight  for  themselves. 


XIV 


After  being  without  relatives  and  friends  for  over  two 
years  I  naturally  lost  no  time  in  trying  again  to  get  in 
touch  with  them;  though  I  did  heed  my  conservator's 
request  that  I  first  give  him  two  or  three  days  in  which 
to  acquaint  intimates  with  the  new  turn  my  affairs  had 
taken. 

During  the  latter  part  of  that  first  week  I  wrote  many 
letters,  so  many,  indeed,  that  I  soon  exhausted  a  liberal 
supply  of  stationery.  This  had  been  placed  at  my 
disposal  at  the  suggestion  of  my  conservator,  who  had 
wisely  arranged  that  I  should  have  whatever  I  wanted,  if 
expedient.  It  was  now  at  my  own  suggestion  that  the 
supervisor  gave  me  large  sheets  of  manila  wrapping 
paper.  These  I  proceeded  to  cut  into  strips  a  foot  wide. 
One  such  strip,  four  feet  long,  would  suffice  for  a  mere 
billet-doux;  but  a  real  letter  usually  required  several 
such  strips  pasted  together.  More  than  once  letters 
twenty  or  thirty  feet  long  were  written;  and  on  one 
occasion  the  accumulation  of  two  or  three  days  of 
excessive  productivity,  when  spread  upon  the  floor, 
reached  from  one  end  of  the  corridor  to  the  other — a 
distance  of  about  one  hundred  feet.  My  hourly  output 
was  something  like  twelve  feet,  with  an  average  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  words  to  the  foot.  Under  the 
pressure  of  elation  one  takes  pride  in  doing  everything 

95 


q6  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

in  record  time.  Despite  my  speed  my  letters  were 
not  incoherent.  They  were  simply  digressive,  which  was 
to  be  expected,  as  elation  befogs  one's  "goal  idea." 
Though  these  epistolary  monstrosities  were  launched, 
few  reached  those  to  whom  they  were  addressed;  for 
my  conservator  had  wisely  ordered  that  my  literary 
output  be  sent  in  bulk  to  him.  His  action  was  exasper- 
ating, but  later  I  realized  that  he  had  done  me  a  great 
favor  when  he  interposed  his  judgment  between  my 
red-hot  mentality  and  the  cool  minds  of  the  worka- 
day world.  Yet  this  interference  with  what  I  deemed 
my  rights  proved  to  be  the  first  step  in  the  general 
overruling  of  them  by  tactless  attendants  and,  in  par- 
ticular, by  a  certain  assistant  physician. 

I  had  always  shown  a  strong  inclination  to  super- 
intend. In  consequence,  in  my  elated  condition  it  was 
but  natural  that  I  should  have  an  excess  of  executive 
impulses.  In  order  to  decrease  this  executive  pressure 
I  proceeded  to  assume  entire  charge  of  that  portion 
of  the  hospital  in  which  I  happened  at  the  moment 
to  be  confined.  What  I  eventually  issued  as  impera- 
tive orders  were  often  presented  at  first  as  polite  sug- 
gestions. But,  if  my  suggestions  were  not  accorded  a 
respectful  hearing,  and  my  demands  acted  upon  at  once, 
I  invariably  supplemented  them  with  vituperative  ulti- 
matums. These  were  double-edged,  and  involved  me  in 
trouble  quite  as  often  as  they  gained  the  ends  I  sought. 

The  assistant  physician  in  charge  of  my  case,  realizing 
that  he  could  not  grant  all  of  my  requests,  unwisely 
decided  to  deny  most  of  them.     Had  he  been  tactful, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  97 

he  could  have  taken  the  same  stand  without  arousing 
my  animosity.  As  it  was,  he  treated  me  with  a  con- 
temptuous sort  of  indifference  which  finally  developed 
into  spite,  and  led  to  much  trouble  for  us  both.  During 
the  two  wild  months  that  followed,  the  superintendent 
and  the  steward  could  induce  me  to  do  almost  anything 
by  simply  requesting  it.  If  two  men  out  of  three  could 
control  me  easily  during  such  a  period  of  mental  excite- 
ment, is  it  not  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  third  man, 
the  assistant  physician,  could  likewise  have  controlled 
me  had  he  treated  me  with  consideration?  It  was 
his  undisguised  superciliousness  that  gave  birth  to  my 
contempt  for  him.  In  a  letter  written  during  my  second 
week  of  elation,  I  expressed  the  opinion  that  he  and  I 
should  get  along  well  together.  But  that  was  before  I 
had  become  troublesome  enough  to  try  the  man's 
patience.  Nevertheless,  it  indicates  that  he  could  have 
saved  himself  hours  of  time  and  subsequent  worry,  had 
he  met  my  friendly  advances  in  the  proper  spirit,  for 
it  is  the  quality  of  heart  quite  as  much  as  the  quantity 
of  mind  that  cures  or  makes  happy  the  insane. 

The  literary  impulse  took  such  a  hold  on  me  that,  when 
I  first  sat  down  to  compose  a  letter,  I  bluntly  refused  to 
stop  writing  and  go  to  bed  when  the  attendant  ordered 
me  to  do  so.  For  over  one  year  this  man  had  seen  me 
mute  and  meek,  and  the  sudden  and  startling  change 
from  passive  obedience  to  uncompromising  independence 
naturally  puzzled  him.  He  threatened  to  drag  me  to  my 
room,  but  strangely  enough  decided  not  to  do  so.  After 
half  an  hour's  futile  coaxing,  during  which  time  an  un- 


98  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

wonted  supply  of  blood  was  drawn  to  his  brain,  that  sur- 
prised organ  proved  its  gratitude  by  giving  birth  to  a 
timely  and  sensible  idea.  With  an  unaccustomed  re- 
sourcefulness, by  cutting  off  the  supply  of  light  at  the 
electric  switch,  he  put  the  entire  ward  in  darkness.  Se- 
cretly I  admired  the  stratagem,  but  my  words  on  that 
occasion  probably  conveyed  no  idea  of  the  approbation 
that  lurked  within  me. 

I  then  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep.  The  ecstasy  of 
elation  made  each  conscious  hour  one  of  rapturous  happi- 
ness, and  my  memory  knows  no  day  of  brighter  sunlight 
than  those  nights.  The  floodgates  of  thought  were 
wide  open.  So  jealous  of  each  other  were  the  thoughts 
that  they  seemed  to  stumble  over  one  another  in  their 
mad  rush  to  present  themselves  to  my  re-enthroned  ego. 

I  naturally  craved  companionship,  but  there  were  not 
many  patients  whom  I  cared  to  talk  with.  I  did,  how- 
ever, greatly  desire  to  engage  the  assistant  physician  in 
conversation,  as  he  was  a  man  of  some  education  and 
familiar  with  the  history  of  my  case.  But  this  man, 
who  had  tried  to  induce  me  to  speak  when  delusions 
had  tied  my  tongue,  now,  when  I  was  at  last  willing  to 
talk,  would  scarcely  condescend  to  listen;  and  what 
seemed  to  me  his  studied  and  ill-disguised  avoidance 
only  served  to  whet  my  desire  to  detain  him  whenever 
possible. 

It  was  about  the  second  week  that  my  reformative 
turn  of  mind  became  acute.  The  ward  in  which  I  was 
confined  was  well  furnished  and  as  homelike  as  such  a 
place  could  be,  though  in  justice  to  my  own  home  I 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  99 

must  observe  that  the  resemblance  was  not  great.  About 
the  so-called  violent  ward  I  had  far  less  favorable 
ideas.  Though  I  had  not  been  subjected  to  physical 
abuse  during  the  first  fourteen  months  of  my  stay 
here,  I  had  seen  unnecessary  and  often  brutal  force 
used  by  the  attendants  in  managing  several  so-called 
violent  patients,  who,  upon  their  arrival,  had  been 
placed  in  the  ward  where  I  was.  I  had  also  heard  con- 
vincing rumors  of  rough  treatment  of  irresponsible 
patients  in  the  violent  ward. 

At  once  I  determined  to  conduct  a  thorough  investi- 
gation of  the  institution.  In  order  that  I  might  have 
proof  that  my  intended  action  was  deliberate,  my  first 
move  was  to  tell  one  or  two  fellow-patients  that  I 
should  soon  transgress  some  rule  in  such  a  way  as  to 
necessitate  my  removal  to  the  violent  ward.  At  first 
I  thought  of  breaking  a  few  panes  of  glass;  but  my 
purpose  was  accomplished  in  another  way — and,  in- 
deed, sooner  than  I  had  anticipated.  My  conservator, 
in  my  presence,  had  told  the  assistant  physician  that  the 
doctors  could  permit  me  to  telephone  him  whenever 
they  should  see  fit.  It  was  rather  with  the  wish  to 
test  the  unfriendly  physician  than  to  satisfy  any  desire 
to  speak  with  my  conservator  that  one  morning  I  asked 
permission  to  call  up  the  latter.  That  very  morning  I 
had  received  a  letter  from  him.  This  the  doctor  knew, 
for  I  showed  him  the  letter — but  not  its  contents.  It 
was  on  the  letter  that  I  based  my  demand,  though  in  it 
my  brother  did  not  even  intimate  that  he  wished  to 
speak  to  me.    The  doctor,  however,  had  no  way  of  know- 


loo  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

ing  that  my  statement  was  not  true.  To  deny  my  re- 
quest was  simply  one  of  his  ill-advised  whims,  and  his 
refusal  was  given  with  customary  curtness  and  contempt. 
I  met  his  refusal  in  kind,  and  presented  him  with  a 
trenchant  critique  of  his  character. 

He  said,  "  Unless  you  stop  talking  in  that  way  I  shall 
have  you  transferred  to  the  Fourth  Ward."  (This 
was  the  violent  ward.) 

"Put  me  where  you  please,"  was  my  reply.  "I'll  put 
you  in  the  gutter  before  I  get  through  with  you. " 

With  that  the  doctor  made  good  his  threat,  and  the  at- 
tendant escorted  me  to  the  violent  ward — a  willing,  in 
fact,  eager  prisoner. 

The  ward  in  which  I  was  now  placed  (September  13th, 
1902)  was  furnished  in  the  plainest  manner.  The  floors 
were  of  hard  wood  and  the  walls  were  bare.  Except  when 
at  meals  or  out  of  doors  taking  their  accustomed  exercise, 
the  patients  usually  lounged  about  in  one  large  room, 
in  which  heavy  benches  were  used,  it  being  thought  that 
in  the  hands  of  violent  patients,  chairs  might  become  a 
menace  to  others.  In  the  dining  room,  however,  there 
were  chairs  of  a  substantial  type,  for  patients  seldom 
run  amuck  at  meal  time.  Nevertheless,  one  of  these 
dining-room  chairs  soon  acquired  a  history. 

As  my  banishment  had  come  on  short  notice,  I  had 
failed  to  provide  myself  with  many  things  I  now 
desired.  My  first  request  was  that  I  be  supplied 
with  stationery.  The  attendants,  acting  no  doubt  on 
the  doctor's  orders,  refused  to  grant  my  request;  nor 
would  they  give  me  a  lead  pencil — which,  luckily,  I 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  101 

did  not  need,  for  I  happened  to  have  one.  Despite 
their  refusal  I  managed  to  get  some  scraps  of  paper, 
on  which  I  was  soon  busily  engaged  in  writing  notes 
to  those  in  authority.  Some  of  these  (as  I  learned 
later)  were  delivered,  but  no  attention  was  paid  to  them. 
No  doctor  came  near  me  until  evening,  when  the  one 
who  had  banished  me  made  his  regular  round  of  in- 
spection. When  he  appeared,  the  interrupted  conversa- 
tion of  the  morning  was  resumed — that  is,  by  me — and 
in  a  similar  vein.  I  again  asked  leave  to  telephone  my 
conservator.  The  doctor  again  refused,  and,  of  course, 
again  I  told  him  what  I  thought  of  him. 

My  imprisomnent  pleased  me.  I  was  where  I  most 
wished  to  be,  and  I  busied  myself  investigating  condi- 
tions and  making  mental  notes.  As  the  assistant 
physician  could  grant  favors  to  the  attendants,  and  had 
authority  to  discharge  them,  they  did  his  bidding  and 
continued  to  refuse  most  of  my  requests.  In  spite  of 
their  unfriendly  attitude,  however,  I  did  manage  to 
persuade  the  supervisor,  a  kindly  man,  well  along  in 
years,  to  deliver  a  note  to  the  steward.  In  it  I  asked 
him  to  come  at  once,  as  I  wished  to  talk  with  him. 
The  steward,  whom  I  looked  upon  as  a  friend,  returned 
no  answer  and  made  no  visit.  I  supposed  he,  too,  had 
purposely  ignored  me.  As  I  learned  afterwards,  both 
he  and  the  superintendent  were  absent,  else  perhaps  I 
should  have  been  treated  in  a  less  high-handed  manner 
by  the  assistant  physician,  who  was  not  absent. 

The  next  morning,  after  a  renewal  of  my  request  and  a 
repeated  refusal,  I  asked  the  doctor  to  send  me  the  "Book 


102  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

of  Psalms"  which  I  had  left  in  my  former  room.  With 
this  request  he  complied,  believing,  perhaps,  that  some 
religion  would  at  least  do  me  no  harm.  I  probably- 
read  my  favorite  psalm,  the  45th;  but  most  of  my 
time  I  spent  writing,  on  the  flyleaves,  psalms  of  my 
own.  And  if  the  value  of  a  psalm  is  to  be  measured  by 
the  intensity  of  feeling  portrayed,  my  compositions  of 
that  day  rightly  belonged  beside  the  writings  of  David. 
My  psalms  were  indited  to  those  in  authority  at  the 
hospital,  and  later  in  the  day  the  supervisor — who  proved 
himself  a  friend  on  many  occasions — took  the  book  to 
headquarters. 

The  assistant  physician,  who  had  mistaken  my 
malevolent  tongue  for  a  violent  mind,  had  placed  me  in 
an  exile  which  precluded  my  attending  the  service  which 
was  held  in  the  chapel  that  Sunday  afternoon.  Time 
which  might  better  have  been  spent  in  church  I  therefore 
spent  in  perfecting  a  somewhat  ingenious  scheme  for 
getting  in  touch  with  the  steward.  That  evening,  when 
the  doctor  again  appeared,  I  approached  him  in  a  friendly 
way  and  politely  repeated  my  request.  He  again 
refused  to  grant  it.  With  an  air  of  resignation  I  said, 
"Well,  as  it  seems  useless  to  argue  the  point  with  you 
and  as  the  notes  sent  to  others  have  thus  far  been  ignored, 
I  should  like,  with  your  kind  permission,  to  kick  a  hole 
in  your  damned  old  building  and  to-morrow  presejit 
myself  to  the  steward  in  his  office." 

"Kick  away!"  he  said  with  a  sneer.  He  then  entered 
an  adjoining  ward,  where  he  remained  for  about  ten 
minutes. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  103 

If  you  will  draw  in  your  mind,  or  on  paper,  a  letter 
"L,"  and  let  the  vertical  part  represent  a  room  forty 
feet  in  length,  and  the  horizontal  part  one  of  twenty, 
and  if  you  will  then  picture  me  as  standing  in  a  door- 
way at  the  intersection  of  these  two  lines — the  door 
to  the  dining  room — and  the  doctor  behind  another  door 
at  the  top  of  the  perpendicular,  forty  feet  away,  you  will 
have  represented  graphically  the  opposing  armies  just 
prior  to  the  first  real  assault  in  what  proved  to  be  a 
siege  of  seven  weeks. 

The  moment  the  doctor  re-entered  the  ward,  as  he 
had  to  do  to  return  to  the  office,  I  disappeared  through 
my  door — into  the  dining  room.  I  then  walked  the 
length  of  that  room  and  picked  up  one  of  the  heavy 
wooden  chairs,  selected  for  my  purpose  while  the  doc- 
tor and  his  tame  charges  were  at  church.  Using  the 
chair  as  a  battering-ram,  without  malice — joy  being  in 
my  heart — I  deliberately  thrust  two  of  its  legs  through 
an  upper  and  a  lower  pane  of  a  four-paned  plate  glass 
window.  The  only  miscalculation  I  made  was  in  fail- 
ing to  place  myself  directly  in  front  of  that  window,  and 
at  a  proper  distance,  so  that  I  might  have  broken  every 
one  of  the  four  panes.  This  was  a  source  of  regret  to  me, 
for  I  was  always  loath  to  leave  a  well-thought-out  piece 
of  work  unfinished. 

The  crash  of  shattered  and  falling  glass  startled  every 
one  but  me.  Especially  did  it  frighten  one  patient  who 
happened  to  be  in  the  dining  room  at  the  time.  He 
fled.  The  doctor  and  the  attendant  who  were  in  the 
adjoining  room  could  not  see  me,  or  know  what  the 


104  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

trouble  was ;  but  they  lost  no  time  in  finding  out.  Like 
the  proverbial  cold-blooded  murderer  who  stands  over 
his  victim,  weapon  in  hand,  calmly  awaiting  arrest,  I 
stood  my  ground,  and,  with  a  fair  degree  of  compos- 
ure, awaited  the  onrush  of  doctor  and  attendant. 
They  soon  had  me  in  hand.  Each  taking  an  arm,  they 
marched  me  to  my  room.  This  took  not  more  than 
half  a  minute,  but  the  time  was  not  so  short  as  to 
prevent  my  delivering  myself  of  one  more  thumb-nail 
characterization  of  the  doctor.  My  inability  to  recall 
that  delineation,  verbatim,  entails  no  loss  on  literature. 
But  one  remark  made  as  the  doctor  seized  hold  of 
me  was  apt,  though  not  impromptu.  "Well,  doctor," 
I  said,  "  knowing  you  to  be  a  truthful  man,  I  just  took 
you  at  your  word." 

Senseless  as  this  act  appears  it  was  the  result  of  logical 
thinking.  The  steward  had  entire  charge  of  the  build- 
ing and  ordered  all  necessary  repairs.  It  was  he  whom 
I  desired  above  all  others  to  see,  and  I  reasoned  that  the 
breaking  of  several  dollars'  worth  of  plate  glass  (for  which 
later,  to  my  surprise,  I  had  to  pay)  would  compel  his 
attention  on  grounds  of  economy,  if  not  those  of  the 
friendly  interest  which  I  now  believed  he  had  abandoned. 
Early  the  next  morning,  as  I  had  hoped,  the  steward 
appeared.  He  approached  me  in  a  friendly  way  (as  had 
been  his  wont)  and  I  met  him  in  a  like  manner.  "I  wish 
you  would  leave  a  little  bit  of  the  building,"  he  said 
good-naturedly. 

"I  will  leave  it  all,  and  gladly,  if  you  will  pay  some 
attention  to  my  messages,"  was  my  rejoinder. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  105 

"Had  I  not  been  out  of  town,"  he  replied,  "I  would 
have  come  to  see  you  sooner."  And  this  honest  expla- 
nation I  accepted. 

I  made  known  to  the  steward  the  assistant  physician's 
behavior  in  balking  my  desire  to  telephone  my  conserv- 
ator. He  agreed  to  place  the  matter  before  the  super- 
intendent, who  had  that  morning  returned.  As  proof  of 
gratitude,  I  promised  to  suspend  hostilities  until  I  had 
had  a  talk  with  the  superintendent.  I  made  it  quite 
plain,  however,  that  should  he  fail  to  keep  his  word,  I 
would  further  facilitate  the  ventilation  of  the  violent 
ward.  My  faith  in  mankind  was  not  yet  wholly  re- 
stored. 


XV 


A  few  hours  later,  without  having  witnessed  any- 
thing of  particular  significance,  except  as  it  befell  my- 
self, I  was  transferred  to  my  old  ward.  The  super- 
intendent, who  had  ordered  this  rehabilitation,  soon 
appeared,  and  he  and  I  had  a  satisfactory  talk.  He  gave 
me  to  understand  that  he  himself  would  in  future  look 
after  my  case,  as  he  realized  that  his  assistant  lacked  the 
requisite  tact  and  judgment  to  cope  with  one  of  my 
temperament — and  with  that,  my  desire  to  telephone  my 
conservator  vanished. 

Now  no  physician  would  like  to  have  his  wings  clipped 
by  a  patient,  even  indirectly,  and  without  doubt  the 
man's  pride  was  piqued  as  his  incompetence  was  thus 
made  plain.  Thereafter,  when  he  passed  through  the 
ward,  he  and  I  had  frequent  tilts.  Not  only  did  I  lose  no 
opportunity  to  belittle  him  in  the  presence  of  attendants 
and  patients,  but  I  even  created  such  opportunities;  so 
that  before  long  he  tried  to  avoid  me  whenever  possible. 
But  it  seldom  was  possible.  One  of  my  chief  amuse- 
ments consisted  in  what  were  really  one-sided  inter- 
views with  him.  Occasionally  he  was  so  unwise  as  to 
stand  his  ground  for  several  minutes,  and  his  argu- 
ments on  such  occasions  served  only  to  keep  my  temper 
at  a  vituperative  heat.  If  there  were  any  epithets  which 
I  failed  to  apply  to  him  during  the  succeeding  weeks 

106 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  107 

of  my  association  with  him,  they  must  have  been  coined 
since.  The  uncanny  admixture  of  sanity  displayed  by 
me,  despite  my  insane  condition,  was  something  this 
doctor  could  not  comprehend.  Remarks  of  mine,  which 
he  should  have  discounted  or  ignored,  rankled  as  the 
insults  of  a  sane  and  free  man  would  have  done.  And 
his  blunt  and  indiscriminate  refusal  of  most  of  my 
requests  prolonged  my  period  of  mental  excitement. 
After  my  return  to  my  old  ward  I  remained  there  for  a 
period  of  three  weeks.  At  that  time  I  was  a  very  self- 
centred  individual.  My  large  and  varied  assortment  of 
delusions  of  grandeur  made  everything  seem  possible. 
There  were  few  problems  I  hesitated  to  attack.  With 
sufficient  provocation  I  even  attacked  attendants — prob- 
lems in  themselves;  but  such  rights  as  I  subsequently 
engaged  in  were  fights  either  for  my  own  rights  or  the 
rights  of  others.  Though  for  a  while  I  got  along  fairly 
well  with  the  attendants  and  as  well  as  could  be  expected 
with  the  assistant  physician,  it  soon  became  evident  that 
these  men  felt  that  to  know  me  more  was  to  love  me  less. 
Owing  to  their  lack  of  capacity  for  the  work  required  of 
them,  I  was  able  ito  cause  them  endless  annoyance. 
Many  times  a  day  I  would  tell  the  attendants  what 
to  do  and  what  not  to  do,  and  tell  them  what  I  should  do 
if  my  requests,  suggestions,  or  orders  were  not  immedi- 
ately complied  with.  For  over  one  year  they  had 
seen  me  in  a  passive,  almost  speechless  condition,  and 
they  were,  therefore,  unable  to  understand  my  un- 
wonted aggressions.  The  threat  that  I  would  chastise 
them  for  any  disobedience  of  my  orders  they  looked  upon 


108  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

as  a  huge  joke.  So  it  was,  until  one  day  I  incontinently 
cracked  that  joke  against  the  head  of  one  of  them. 

It  began  in  this  wise:  Early  in  October  there  was 
placed  in  the  ward  a  man  whose  abnormality  for  the 
most  part  consisted  of  an  inordinate  thirst  for  liquor. 
He  was  over  fifty  years  of  age,  well  educated,  traveled, 
refined  and  of  an  artistic  temperament.  Congenial  com- 
panions were  scarce  where  I  was,  and  he  and  I  were  soon 
drawn  together  in  friendship.  This  man  had  been  trapped 
into  the  institution  by  the  subterfuge  of  relatives.  As  is 
common  in  such  cases,  many  "  white"  lies  had  been  re- 
sorted to  in  order  to  save  trouble  for  all  concerned — 
that  is,  all  except  the  patient.  To  be  taken  without 
notice  from  one's  home  and  by  a  deceitful,  though 
under  the  circumstances  perhaps  justifiable  strategy, 
placed  in  a  ward  with  fifteen  other  men,  all  exhibiting  in- 
sanity in  varying  degrees,  is  as  heartbreaking  an  ordeal 
as  one  can  well  imagine.  Yet  such  was  this  man's  exper- 
ience. A  free  man  one  day,  he  found  himself  deprived  of 
his  liberty  the  next,  and  branded  with  what  he  consid- 
ered an  unbearable  disgrace. 

Mr.  Blank  (as  I  shall  call  him)  was  completely  un- 
nerved. As  he  was  a  stranger  in  what  I  well  knew 
was  a  strange  world,  I  took  him  under  my  protecting 
and  commodious  wing.  I  did  all  I  could  to  cheer  him 
up,  and  tried  to  secure  for  him  that  consideration  which 
to  me  seemed  indispensable  to  his  well-being.  Pa- 
tients in  his  condition  had  never  been  forced,  when 
taking  their  exercise,  to  walk  about  the  grounds  with  the 
other  patients.     At  no  time  during  the  preceding  four- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  109 

teen  months  had  I  seen  a  newly  committed  patient 
forced  to  exercise  against  his  will.  One  who  objected 
was  invariably  left  in  the  ward,  or  his  refusal  was 
reported  to  the  doctor  before  further  action  was  taken. 
No  sane  person  need  stretch  his  imagination  in  order  to 
realize  how  humiliating  it  would  be  for  this  man  to  walk 
with  a  crowd  which  greatly  resembled  a  "  chain  gang." 
Two  by  two,  under  guard,  these  hostages  of  misfortune 
get  the  only  long  walks  their  restricted  liberty  allows 
them.  After  the  one  or  two  occasions  when  this  man  did 
walk  with  the  gang,  I  was  impressed  with  the  not  wholly 
unreasonable  thought  that  the  physical  exercise  in  no 
way  compensated  for  the  mental  distress  which  the  sense 
of  humiliation  and  disgrace  caused  him  to  suffer.  It 
was  delightfully  easy  for  me  to  interfere  in  his  behalf; 
and  when  he  came  to  my  room,  wrought  up  over  the 
prospect  of  another  such  humiliation  and  weeping  bit- 
terly, I  assured  him  that  he  should  take  his  exercise  that 
day  when  I  did.  My  first  move  to  accomplish  the  de- 
sired result  was  to  approach,  in  a  friendly  way,  the  at- 
tendant in  charge,  and  ask  him  to  permit  my  new  friend 
to  walk  about  the  grounds  with  me  when  next  I  went. 
He  said  he  would  do  nothing  of  the  kind — that  he  in- 
tended to  take  this  man  when  he  took  the  others.  I  said, 
"For  over  a  year  I  have  been  in  this  ward  and  so  have 
you,  and  I  have  never  yet  seen  a  man  in  Mr.  Blank's 
condition  forced  to  go  out  of  doors." 

"It  makes  no  difference  whether  you  have  or  not," 
said  the  attendant,  "he's  going." 

"Will  you  ask  the  doctor  whether  Mr.  Blank  can  or 


no  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

cannot  walk  about  the  grounds  with  my  special  attend- 
ant when  I  go?" 

"No,  I  won't.  Furthermore,  it's  none  of  your  busi- 
ness." 

"If  you  resort  to  physical  force  and  attempt  to  take 
Mr.  Blank  with  the  other  patients,  you'll  wish  you 
hadn't,"  I  said,  as  I  walked  away. 

At  this  threat  the  fellow  scornfully  laughed.  To  him 
it  meant  nothing.  He  believed  I  could  fight  only  with 
my  tongue,  and  I  confess  that  I  myself  was  in  doubt  as  to 
my  power  of  fighting  otherwise. 

Returning  to  my  room,  where  Mr.  Blank  was  in  wait- 
ing, I  supported  his  drooping  courage  and  again  assured 
him  that  he  should  be  spared  the  dreaded  ordeal.  I 
ordered  him  to  go  to  a  certain  room  at  the  farther  end 
of  the  hall  and  there  await  developments — so  that, 
should  there  be  a  fight,  the  fine  of  battle  might  be  a  long 
one.  He  obeyed.  In  a  minute  or  two  the  attendant  was 
headed  for  that  room.  I  followed  closely  at  his  heels, 
still  threatening  to  attack  him  if  he  dared  so  much  as 
lay  a  finger  on  my  friend.  Though  I  was  not  then  aware 
of  it,  I  was  followed  by  another  patient,  a  man  who, 
though  a  mental  case,  had  his  lucid  intervals  and  always 
a  loyal  heart.  He  seemed  to  realize  that  trouble  was 
brewing  and  that  very  likely  I  should  need  help. 
Once  in  the  room,  the  war  of  words  was  renewed,  my 
sensitive  and  unnerved  friend  standing  by  and  anxiously 
looking  on. 

"I  warn  you  once  more,"  I  said,  "  if  you  touch  Mr. 
Blank,  I'll  punch  you  so  hard  you'll  wish  you  hadn't." 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  in 

The  attendant's  answer  was  an  immediate  attempt  to 
eject  Mr.  Blank  from  the  room  by  force.  Nothing 
could  be  more  automatic  than  my  action  at  that  time; 
indeed,  to  this  day  I  do  not  remember  performing  the 
act  itself.  What  I  remember  is  the  determination  to 
perform  it  and  the  subsequent  evidence  of  its  having 
been  performed.  At  all  events  I  had  already  made  up 
my  mind  to  do  a  certain  thing  if  the  attendant  did  a  cer- 
tain thing.  He  did  the  one  and  I  did  the  other.  Almost 
before  he  had  touched  Mr.  Blank's  person,  my  right  fist 
struck  him  with  great  force  in,  on,  or  about  the  left  eye. 
It  was  then  that  I  became  the  object  of  the  attendant's 
attention — but  not  his  undivided  attention — for  as  he 
was  choking  me,  my  unsuspected  ally  stepped  up  and 
paid  the  attendant  a  sincere  compliment  by  likewise 
choking  him.  In  the  scuffle  I  was  forced  to  the  floor. 
The  attendant  had  a  grip  upon  my  throat.  My  ward- 
mate  had  a  double  grip  upon  the  attendant's  throat. 
Thus  was  formed  a  chain  with  a  weak,  if  not  a  missing, 
link  in  the  middle.  Picture,  if  you  will,  an  insane  man 
being  choked  by  a  supposedly  sane  one,  and  he  in  turn 
being  choked  by  a  temporarily  sane  insane  friend  of  the 
assaulted  one,  and  you  will  have  Nemesis  as  nearly  in  a 
nutshell  as  any  mere  rhetorician  has  yet  been  able  to 
put  her. 

That  I  was  well  choked  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  my 
throat  bore  the  crescent-shaped  mark  of  my  assailant's 
thumb  nail.  And  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  my  res- 
cuer, who  was  a  very  powerful  man,  made  a  decided 
impression  on    my   assailant's  throat.     Had  not  the 


112  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

superintendent  opportunely  appeared  at  that  moment, 
the  man  might  soon  have  lapsed  into  unconscious- 
ness, for  I  am  sure  my  ally  would  never  have  re- 
leased him  until  he  had  released  me.  The  moment  the 
attendant  with  his  one  good  eye  caught  sight  of  the  super- 
intendent the  scrimmage  ended.  This  was  but  natural, 
for  it  is  against  the  code  of  honor  generally  obtaining 
among  attendants,  that  one  should  so  far  forget  himself 
as  to  abuse  patients  in  the  presence  of  sane  and  com- 
petent witnesses. 

The  choking  which  I  had  just  received  served  only  to 
limber  my  vocal  cords.  I  told  the  doctor  all  about  the 
preliminary  verbal  skirmish  and  the  needlessness  of  the 
fight.  The  superintendent  had  graduated  at  Yale  over 
fifty  years  prior  to  my  own  graduation,  and  because  of 
this  common  interest  and  his  consummate  tact  we  got 
along  well  together.  But  his  friendly  interest  did  not 
keep  him  from  speaking  his  mind  upon  occasion,  as  his 
words  at  this  time  proved.  "You  don't  know,"  he  said, 
"how  it  grieves  me  to  see  you — a  Yale  man — act  so  like  a 
rowdy." 

"If  fighting  for  the  rights  of  a  much  older  man,  unable 
to  protect  his  own  interests,  is  the  act  of  a  rowdy,  I'm 
quite  willing  to  be  thought  one,"  was  my  reply. 

Need  I  add  that  the  attendant  did  not  take  Mr.  Blank 
for  a  walk  that  morning?  Nor,  so  far  as  I  know,  was  the 
latter  ever  forced  again  to  take  his  exercise  against  his 
will. 


XVI 


The  superintendent  now  realized  that  I  was  altogether 
too  energetic  a  humanitarian  to  remain  in  a  ward  with  so 
many  other  patients.  My  actions  had  a  demoralizing 
effect  upon  them;  so  I  was  forthwith  transferred  to  a  pri- 
vate room,  one  of  two  situated  in  a  small  one-story 
annex.  These  new  quarters  were  rather  attractive,  not 
unlike  a  bachelor  apartment. 

As  there  was  no  one  here  with  whom  I  could  interfere  I 
got  along  without  making  any  disturbance — that  is,  so 
long  as  I  had  a  certain  special  attendant,  a  man  suited  to 
my  temperament.  He  who  was  now  placed  over  me 
understood  human  nature.  He  never  resorted  to  force 
if  argument  failed  to  move  me;  and  trifling  transgressions, 
which  would  have  led  to  a  fight  had  he  behaved  like  a 
typical  attendant,  he  either  ignored  or  privately  re- 
ported to  the  doctor.  For  the  whole  period  of  my  intense 
excitement  there  were  certain  persons  who  could  con- 
trol me,  and  certain  others  whose  presence  threw  me  into 
a  state  bordering  on  rage,  and  frequently  into  passions 
which  led  to  distressing  results. 

Unfortunately  for  me,  my  good  attendant  soon  left 
the  institution  to  accept  a  more  attractive  business 
offer.  He  left  without  even  a  good-bye  to  me.  Noth- 
ing proves  more  conclusively  how  important  to  me 
would  have  been  his  retention  than  this  abrupt  leave- 

113 


H4  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

taking  which  the  doctor  had  evidently  ordered,  thinking 
perhaps  that  the  prospect  of  such  a  change  would 
excite  me.  However,  I  caused  no  trouble  when  the 
substitution  was  made,  though  I  did  dislike  having 
placed  over  me  a  man  with  whom  I  had  previously 
had  misunderstandings.  He  was  about  my  own  age  and 
it  was  by  no  means  so  easy  to  take  orders  from  him 
as  it  had  been  to  obey  his  predecessor,  who  was  con- 
siderably older  than  myself.  Then,  too,  this  younger 
attendant  disliked  me  because  of  the  many  disagreeable 
things  I  had  said  to  him  while  we  were  together  in  a 
general  ward.  He  weighed  about  one  hundred  and  ninety 
pounds  to  my  one  hundred  and  thirty,  and  had  evidently 
been  selected  to  attend  me  because  of  his  great  strength. 
A  choice  based  on  mental  rather  than  physical  consider- 
ations would  have  been  wiser.  The  superintendent,  be- 
cause of  his  advanced  age  and  ill  health,  had  been  obliged 
again  to  place  my  case  in  the  hands  of  the  assistant  physi- 
cian, and  the  latter  gave  this  new  attendant  certain  orders. 
What  I  was  to  be  permitted  to  do,  and  what  not,  was 
carefully  specified.  These  orders,  many  of  them  unrea- 
sonable, were  carried  out  to  the  letter.  For  this  I  cannot 
justly  blame  the  attendant.  The  doctor  had  deprived 
him  of  the  right  to  exercise  what  judgment  he  had. 

At  this  period  I  required  but  little  sleep.  I  usually 
spent  part  of  the  night  drawing;  for  it  was  in  September, 
1902,  while  I  was  at  the  height  of  my  wave  of  self-cen- 
tred confidence,  that  I  decided  that  I  was  destined 
to  become  a  writer  of  books — or  at  least  of  one  book; 
and  now  I  thought  I  might  as  well  be  an  artist,  too, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  115 

and  illustrate  my  own  works.  In  school  I  had  never 
cared  for  drawing;  nor  at  college  either.  But  now 
my  awakened  artistic  impulse  was  irresistible.  My 
first  self-imposed  lesson  was  a  free-hand  copy  of  an 
illustration  on  a  cover  of  Life.  Considering  the  cir- 
cumstances, that  first  drawing  was  creditable,  though 
I  cannot  now  prove  the  assertion;  for  inconsiderate 
attendants  destroyed  it,  with  many  more  of  my  draw- 
ings and  manuscripts.  From  the  very  moment  I 
completed  that  first  drawing,  honors  were  divided 
between  my  literary  and  artistic  impulses;  and  a 
letter  which,  in  due  time,  I  felt  impelled  to  write  to  the 
Governor  of  the  State,  incorporated  art  with  literature. 
I  wrote  and  read  several  hours  a  day  and  I  spent  as  many 
more  in  drawing.  But  the  assistant  physician,  instead  of 
making  it  easy  for  me  to  rid  myself  of  an  excess  of 
energy  along  literary  and  artistic  lines,  balked  me  at 
every  turn,  and  seemed  to  delight  in  displaying  as  little 
interest  as  possible  in  my  newly  awakened  ambitions. 
When  everything  should  have  been  done  to  calm  my 
abnormally  active  mind,  a  studied  indifference  and  fail- 
ure to  protect  my  interests  kept  me  in  a  state  of  exas- 
peration. 

But  circumstances  now  arose  which  brought  about  the 
untimely  stifling — I  might  better  say  strangulation — of 
my  artistic  impulses.  The  doctors  were  led — unwisely,  I 
believe — to  decide  that  absolute  seclusion  was  the 
only  thing  that  would  calm  my  over-active  brain.  In  con- 
sequence, all  writing  and  drawing  materials  and  all  books 
were  taken  from  me.    And  from  October  18th  until  the 


Ii6  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

first  of  the  following  January,  except  for  one  fortnight, 
I  was  confined  in  one  or  another  small,  barred  room, 
hardly  better  than  a  cell  in  a  prison  and  in  some  instances 
far  worse. 

A  corn  cob  was  the  determining  factor  at  this  crisis. 
Seeing  in  myself  an  embryonic  Raphael,  I  had  a  habit  of 
preserving  all  kinds  of  odds  and  ends  as  souvenirs  of  my 
development.  These,  I  believed,  sanctified  by  my  Midas- 
like touch,  would  one  day  be  of  great  value.  If  the  pub- 
lic can  tolerate,  as  it  does,  thousands  of  souvenir  hunters, 
surely  one  with  a  sick  mind  should  be  indulged  in  the 
whim  for  collecting  such  souvenirs  as  come  within  his 
reach.  Among  the  odds  and  ends  that  I  had  gathered 
were  several  corn  cobs.  These  I  intended  to  gild  and  some 
day  make  useful  by  attaching  to  them  small  thermom- 
eters. But  on  the  morning  of  October  18th,  the  young 
man  in  charge  of  me,  finding  the  corn  cobs,  forthwith 
informed  me  that  he  would  throw  them  away.  I  as 
promptly  informed  him  that  any  such  action  on  his  part 
would  lead  to  a  fight .     And  so  it  did. 

When  this  fight  began,  there  were  two  attendants  at 
hand.  I  fought  them  both  to  a  standstill,  and  told  them 
I  should  continue  to  fight  until  the  assistant  physician 
came  to  the  ward.  Thereupon,  my  special  attendant, 
realizing  that  I  meant  what  I  said,  held  me  while  the 
other  went  for  assistance.  He  soon  returned,  not  with 
the  assistant  physician,  but  with  a  third  attendant,  and 
the  fight  was  renewed.  The  one  who  had  acted  as  mes- 
senger, being  of  finer  fibre  than  the  other  two,  stood  at 
a  safe  distance.    It  was,  of  course,  against  the  rules  of  the 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  117 

institution  for  an  attendant  to  strike  a  patient,  and,  as  I 
was  sane  enough  to  report  with  a  fair  chance  of  belief 
any  forbidden  blows,  each  captor  had  to  content  himself 
with  holding  me  by  an  arm  and  attempting  to  choke  me 
into  submission.  However,  I  was  able  to  prevent  them 
from  getting  a  good  grip  on  my  throat,  and  for  almost 
ten  minutes  I  continued  to  fight,  telling  them  all  the  time 
that  I  would  not  stop  until  a  doctor  should  come.  An 
assistant  physician,  but  not  the  one  in  charge  of  my 
case,  finally  appeared.  He  gave  orders  that  I  be  placed 
in  the  violent  ward,  which  adjoined  the  private  apart- 
ment I  was  then  occupying,  and  no  time  was  lost  in 
locking  me  in  a  small  room  in  that  ward. 

Friends  have  said  to  me:  "Well,  what  is  to  be  done 
when  a  patient  runs  amuck?"  The  best  answer  I  can 
make  is:  "Do  nothing  to  make  him  run  amuck."  Psy- 
chiatrists have  since  told  me  that  had  I  had  an  attendant 
with  the  wisdom  and  ability  to  humor  me  and  permit  me 
to  keep  my  priceless  corn  cobs,  the  fight  in  question, 
and  the  worse  events  that  followed,  would  probably 
not  have  occurred — not  that  day,  nor  ever,  had  I  at  all 
times  been  properly  treated  by  those  in  charge  of  me. 

So  again  I  found  myself  in  the  violent  ward — but  this 
time  not  because  of  any  desire  to  investigate  it.  Art  and 
literature  being  now  more  engrossing  than  my  plans  for 
reform,  I  became,  in  truth,  an  unwilling  occupant  of  a 
room  and  a  ward  devoid  of  even  a  suggestion  of  the 
aesthetic.  The  room  itself  was  clean,  and  under  other  cir- 
cumstances might  have  been  cheerful.  It  was  twelve  feet 
long,  seven  *eet  wide,  and  twelve  high.    A  cluster  of 


Ii8  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

incandescent  lights,  enclosed  in  a  semi-spherical  glass 
globe,  was  attached  to  the  ceiling.  The  walls  were  bare 
and  plainly  wainscotted,  and  one  large  window,  barred 
outside,  gave  light.  At  one  side  of  the  door  was  an 
opening  a  foot  square  with  a  door  of  its  own  which  could 
be  unlocked  only  from  without,  and  through  which  food 
could  be  passed  to  a  supposedly  dangerous  patient.  Aside 
from  a  single  bed,  the  legs  of  which  were  screwed  to  the 
floor,  the  room  had  no  furniture. 

The  attendant,  before  locking  me  in,  searched  me  and 
took  from  me  several  lead  pencils;  but  the  stub  of  one 
escaped  his  vigilance.  Naturally,  to  be  taken  from  a 
handsomely  furnished  apartment  and  thrust  into  such  a 
bare  and  unattractive  room  as  this  caused  my  already 
heated  blood  to  approach  the  boiling  point.  Conse- 
quently, my  first  act  was  to  send  a  note  to  the  physician 
who  regularly  had  charge  of  my  case,  requesting  him  to 
visit  me  as  soon  as  he  should  arrive,  and  I  have  every 
reason  to  believe  that  the  note  was  delivered.  Whether 
or  not  this  was  so,  a  report  of  the  morning's  fight  and  my 
transfer  must  have  reached  him  by  some  one  of  several 
witnesses.  While  waiting  for  an  answer,  I  busied  my- 
self writing,  and  as  I  had  no  stationery  I  wrote  on  the 
walls.  Beginning  as  high  as  I  could  reach,  I  wrote  in 
columns,  each  about  three  feet  wide.  Soon  the  pencil 
became  dull.  But  dull  pencils  are  easily  sharpened 
on  the  whetstone  of  wit.  Stirling  acquired  traits,  I 
permitted  myself  to  revert  momentarily  to  a  primitive 
expedient.  I  gnawed  the  wood  quite  from  the  pencil, 
leaving  only  the  graphite  core.     With  a  bit  of  graphite 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  119 

a  hand  guided  by  the  unerring  insolence  of  elation 
may  artistically  damn  all  men  and  things.  That  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  I  did;  and  I  question  whether 
Raphael  or  Michael  Angelo — upon  whom  I  then  looked 
as  mere  predecessors — ever  put  more  feeling  per  square 
foot  into  their  mural  masterpieces.  Every  little  while, 
as  if  to  punctuate  my  composition,  and  in  an  en- 
deavor to  get  attention,  I  viciously  kicked  the  door. 

This  first  fight  of  the  day  occurred  about  8  a.m. 
For  the  three  hours  following  I  was  left  to  thrash 
about  the  room  and  work  myself  into  a  frenzy.  I  made 
up  my  mind  to  compel  attention.  A  month  earlier, 
shattered  glass  had  enabled  me  to  accomplish  a  certain 
sane  purpose.  Again  this  day  it  served  me.  The  opal- 
escent half-globe  on  the  ceiling  seemed  to  be  the  most 
vulnerable  point  for  attack.  How  to  reach  and  smash  it 
was  the  next  question — and  soon  answered.  Taking  off 
my  shoes,  I  threw  one  with  great  force  at  my  glass  target 
and  succeeded  in  striking  it  a  destructive  blow. 

The  attendants  charged  upon  my  room.  Their  en- 
trance was  momentarily  delayed  by  the  door  which  stuck 
fast.  I  was  standing  near  it,  and  when  it  gave  way,  its 
edge  struck  me  on  the  forehead  with  force  enough  to  have 
fractured  my  skull  had  it  struck  a  weaker  part.  Once  in 
the  room,  the  two  attendants  threw  me  on  the  bed  and 
one  choked  me  so  severely  that  I  could  feel  my  eyes  start- 
ing from  their  sockets.  The  attendants  then  put  the 
room  in  order;  removed  the  glass — that  is,  all  except  one 
small  and  apparently  innocent,  but  as  the  event  proved 
well-nigh  fatal,  piece — took  my  shoes  and  again  locked 


120  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

me  in  my  room — not  forgetting,  however,  to  curse  me 
well  for  making  them  work  for  their  living. 

When  the  assistant  physician  finally  appeared,  I  met 
him  with  a  blast  of  invective  which,  in  view  of  the  events 
which  quickly  followed,  must  have  blown  out  whatever 
spark  of  kindly  feeling  toward  me  he  may  ever  have 
had.  I  demanded  that  he  permit  me  to  send  word 
to  my  conservator  asking  him  to  come  at  once  and 
look  after  my  interests,  for  I  was  being  unfairly  treated. 
I  also  demanded  that  he  request  the  superintendent  to 
visit  me  at  once,  as  I  intended  to  have  nothing  more  to  do 
with  the  assistant  physicians  or  attendants  who  were  neg- 
lecting and  abusing  me.     He  granted  neither  demand. 

The  bit  of  glass  which  the  attendants  had  overlooked 
was  about  the  size  of  my  thumb  nail.  If  I  remember 
rightly,  it  was  not  a  part  of  the  broken  globe.  It  was  a 
piece  that  had  probably  been  hidden  by  a  former  occu- 
pant, in  a  corner  of  the  square  opening  at  the  side  of  the 
door.  At  all  events,  if  the  pen  is  the  tongue  of  a  ready 
writer,  so  may  a  piece  of  glass  be,  under  given  conditions. 
As  the  thought  I  had  in  mind  seemed  an  immortal  one  I 
decided  to  etch,  rather  than  write  with  fugitive  graphite. 
On  the  topmost  panel  of  the  door,  which  a  few  minutes 
before  had  dealt  me  so  vicious  a  blow,  I  scratched  a  seven- 
word  sentiment — sincere,  if  not  classic:  "God  bless  our 
Home,  which  is  Hell." 

The  violent  exercise  of  the  morning  had  given  me  a 
good  appetite  and  I  ate  my  dinner  with  relish,  though 
with  some  difficulty,  for  the  choking  had  lamed  my  throat. 
On  serving  this  dinner,  the  attendants  again  left  me  to  my 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  1 21 

own  devices.  The  early  part  of  the  afternoon  I  spent  in 
vain  endeavors  to  summon  them  and  induce  them  to  take 
notes  to  the  superintendent  and  his  assistant.  They  con- 
tinued to  ignore  me.  By  sundown  the  furious  excite- 
ment of  the  morning  had  given  place  to  what  might  be 
called  a  deliberative  excitement,  which,  if  anything,  was 
more  effective.  It  was  but  a  few  days  earlier  that  I  had 
discussed  my  case  with  the  assistant  physician  and  told 
him  all  about  the  suicidal  impulse  which  had  been  so 
strong  during  my  entire  period  of  depression.  I  now  rea- 
soned that  a  seeming  attempt  at  suicide,  a  "fake"  suicide, 
would  frighten  the  attendants  into  calling  this  doctor 
whose  presence  I  now  desired — and  desired  the  more  be- 
cause of  his  studied  indifference.  No  man  that  ever 
lived,  loved  life  more  than  I  did  on  that  day,  and  the 
mock  tragedy  which  I  successfully  staged  about  dusk 
was,  I  believe,  as  good  a  farce  as  was  ever  perpetrated. 
If  I  had  any  one  ambition  it  was  to  live  long  enough  to 
regain  my  freedom  and  put  behind  prison  bars  this 
doctor  and  his  burly  henchmen.  To  compel  attention 
that  was  my  object. 

At  that  season  the  sun  set  by  half-past  five  and  supper 
was  usually  served  about  that  time.  So  dark  was  my 
room  then  that  objects  in  it  could  scarcely  be  discerned. 
About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  the  attendant  was 
due  to  appear  with  my  evening  meal  I  made  my  prepa- 
rations. That  the  stage  setting  might  be  in  keeping  with 
the  plot,  I  tore  up  such  papers  as  I  had  with  me,  and  also 
destroyed  other  articles  in  the  room — as  one  might  in  a 
frenzy;  and  to  complete  the  illusion  of  desperation,  de- 


122  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

liberately  broke  my  watch.  I  then  took  off  my  suspend- 
ers, and  tying  one  end  to  the  head  of  the  bedstead,  made 
a  noose  of  the  other.  This  I  adjusted  comfortably  about 
my  throat.  At  the  crucial  moment  I  placed  my  pillow 
on  the  floor  beside  the  head  of  the  bed  and  sat  on  it — 
for  this  was  to  be  an  easy  death.  I  then  bore  just  enough 
weight  on  the  improvised  noose  to  give  all  a  plausible 
look.  And  a  last  lifelike  (or  rather  deathlike)  touclvT 
added  by  gurgling  as  in  infancy's  happy  days. 

No  schoolboy  ever  enjoyed  a  prank  more  than  I  en- 
joyed this  one.  Soon  I  heard  the  step  of  the  attendant, 
bringing  my  supper.  When  he  opened  the  door,  he  had 
no  idea  that  anything  unusual  was  happening  within. 
Coming  as  he  did  from  a  well-lighted  room  into  one  that 
was  dark,  it  took  him  several  seconds  to  grasp  the  situation 
— and  then  he  failed  really  to  take  it  in,  for  he  at  once 
supposed  me  to  be  in  a  semi-unconscious  condition  from 
strangulation.  In  a  state  of  great  excitement  this  brute 
of  the  morning  called  to  his  brute  partner  and  I  was  soon 
released  from  what  was  nothing  more  than  an  amusing 
position,  though  they  believed  it  one  of  torture  or  death. 
The  vile  curses  with  which  they  had  addressed  me  in  the 
morning  were  now  silenced.  They  spoke  kindly  and  ex- 
pressed regret  that  I  should  have  seen  fit  to  resort  to  such 
an  act.  Their  sympathy  was  as  genuine  as  such  men  can 
feel,  but  a  poor  kind  at  best,  for  it  was  undoubtedly  ex- 
cited by  the  thought  of  what  might  be  the  consequences 
to  them  of  their  own  neglect.  While  this  unwonted  stress 
of  emotion  threatened  their  peace  of  mind,  I  continued 
to  play  my  part,  pretending  to  be  all  but  unconscious. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  123 

Shortly  after  my  rescue  from  a  very  living  death, 
the  attendants  picked  me  up  and  carried  my  limp  body 
and  laughing  soul  to  an  adjoining  room,  where  I  was 
tenderly  placed  upon  a  bed.  I  seemed  gradually  to 
revive. 

"What  did  you  do  it  for?  "  asked  one. 

"What's  the  use  of  living  in  a  place  like  this,  to  be 
abused  as  I've  been  to-day?  "  I  asked.  "You  and  the 
doctor  ignore  me  and  all  my  requests.  Even  a  cup  of 
water  between  meals  is  denied  me,  and  other  requests 
which  you  have  no  right  to  refuse.  Had  I  killed  myself, 
both  of  you  would  have  been  discharged.  And  if  my 
relatives  and  friends  had  ever  found  out  how  you  had 
abused  and  neglected  me,  it  is  likely  you  would  have  been 
arrested  and  prosecuted." 

Word  had  already  been  sent  to  the  physician.  He 
hurried  to  the  ward,  his  almost  breathless  condition 
showing  how  my  farce  had  been  mistaken  for  a  real  trag- 
edy. The  moment  he  entered  I  abandoned  the  part  I 
had  been  playing. 

"Now  that  I  have  you  three  brutes  where  I  want  you, 
I'll  tell  you  a  few  things  you  don't  know,"  I  said.  "You 
probably  think  I've  just  tried  to  kill  myself.  It  was 
simply  a  ruse  to  make  you  give  rne  some  attention.  When 
I  make  threats  and  tell  you  that  my  one  object  in  life  is 
to  live  long  enough  to  regain  my  freedom  and  lay  bare 
the  abuses  which  abound  in  places  like  tins,  you 
simply  laugh  at  me,  don't  you?  But  the  fact  is,  that's 
my  ambition,  and  if  you  knew  anything  at  all,  you'd  know 
that  abuse  won't  drive  me  to  suicide.     You  can  continue 


124  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  abuse  me  and  deprive  me  of  my  rights,  and  keep  me  in 
exile  from  relatives  and  friends,  but  the  time  will  come 
when  I'll  make  you  sweat  for  all  this.  I'll  put  you  in 
prison  where  you  belong.  Or  if  I  fail  to  do  that,  I  can  at 
least  bring  about  your  discharge  from  this  institution. 
What's  more,  I  will." 

The  doctor  and  attendants  took  my  threats  with 
characteristic  nonchalance.  Such  threats,  often  enough 
heard  in  such  places,  make  little  or  no  impression,  for 
they  are  seldom  made  good.  When  I  made  these  threats, 
I  really  wished  to  put  these  men  in  prison.  To-day  I 
have  no  such  desire,  for  were  they  not  victims  of  the  same 
vicious  system  of  treatment  to  which  I  was  subjected? 
In  every  institution  where  the  discredited  principles  of 
"  Restraint"  are  used  or  tolerated,  the  very  atmosphere 
is  brutalizing.  Place  a  bludgeon  in  the  hand  of  any 
man,  with  instructions  to  use  it  when  necessary,  and  the 
gentler  and  more  humane  methods  of  persuasion  will  nat- 
urally be  forgotten  or  deliberately  abandoned. 

Throughout  my  period  of  elation,  especially  the  first 
months  of  it  when  I  was  doing  the  work  of  several  normal 
men,  I  required  an  increased  amount  of  fuel  to  generate 
the  abnormal  energy  my  activity  demanded.  I  had  a 
voracious  appetite,  and  I  insisted  that  the  attendant 
give  me  the  supper  he  was  about  to  serve  when  he 
discovered  me  in  the  simulated  throes  of  death.  At 
first  he  refused,  but  finally  relented  and  brought  me  a 
cup  of  tea  and  some  buttered  bread.  Because  of  the 
severe  choking  administered  earlier  in  the  day  it  was 
with  difficulty  that  I  swallowed  any  food.     I  had  to  eat 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  125 

slowly.  The  attendant,  however,  ordered  me  to  hurry, 
and  threatened  otherwise  to  take  what  little  supper  I 
had.  I  told  him  that  I  thought  he  would  not— that  I 
was  entitled  to  my  supper  and  intended  to  eat  it  with  as 
much  comfort  as  possible.  This  nettled  him,  and  by  a 
sudden  and  unexpected  move  he  managed  to  take  from 
me  all  but  a  crust  of  bread.  Even  that  he  tried  to  snatch. 
I  resisted  and  the  third  fight  of  the  day  was  soon  on— and 
that  within  five  minutes  of  the  time  the  doctor  had  left 
the  ward.  I  was  seated  on  the  bed.  The  attendant, 
true  to  his  vicious  instincts,  grasped  my  throat  and 
choked  me  with  the  full  power  of  a  hand  accustomed 
to  that  unmanly  work.  His  partner,  in  the  meantime, 
had  rendered  me  helpless  by  holding  me  flat  on  my 
back  while  the  attacking  party  choked  me  into  breathless 
submission.  The  first  fight  of  the  day  was  caused  by  a 
corn  cob;  this  of  the  evening  by  a  crust  of  bread. 

Were  I  to  close  the  record  of  events  of  that  October 
day  with  an  account  of  the  assault  just  described,  few,  if 
any,  would  imagine  that  I  had  failed  to  mention  all  the 
abuse  to  which  I  was  that  day  subjected.  The  fact  is 
that  not  the  half  has  been  told.  As  the  handling  of  me 
within  the  twenty-four  hours  typifies  the  worst,  but, 
nevertheless,  the  not  unusual  treatment  of  many  pa- 
tients in  a  like  condition,  I  feel  constrained  to  describe 
minutely  the  torture  which  was  my  portion  that  night. 

There  are  several  methods  of  restraint  in  use  to 
this  day  in  various  institutions,  chief  among  them 
"mechanical  restraint "  and  so-called  "chemical  re- 
straint."   The  former  consists  in  the  use  of  instruments 


i26  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

of  restraint,  namely,  strait-jackets  or  camisoles,  muffs, 
straps,  mittens,  restraint  or  strong  sheets,  etc. — all 
of  them,  except  on  the  rarest  of  occasions,  instru- 
ments of  neglect  and  torture.  Chemical  restraint  (some- 
times called  medical  restraint)  consists  in  the  use  of 
temporarily  paralyzing  drugs — hyoscine  being  the  popu- 
lar "dose."  By  the  use  of  such  drugs  a  troublesome 
patient  may  be  rendered  unconscious  and  kept  so  for 
hours  at  a  time.  Indeed,  very  troublesome  patients 
(especially  when  attendants  are  scarce)  are  not  infre- 
quently kept  in  a  stupefied  condition  for  days,  or  even 
for  weeks — but  only  in  institutions  where  the  welfare  of 
the  patients  is  lightly  regarded. 

After  the  supper  fight  I  was  left  alone  in  my  room  for 
about  an  hour.  Then  the  assistant  physician  entered 
with  three  attendants,  including  the  two  who  had  fig- 
ured in  my  farce.  One  carried  a  canvas  contrivance 
known  as  a  camisole.  A  camisole  is  a  type  of  strait- 
jacket;  and  a  very  convenient  type  it  is  for  those  who 
resort  to  such  methods  of  restraint,  for  it  enables  them 
to  deny  the  use  of  strait-jackets  at  all.  A  strait- jacket, 
indeed,  is  not  a  camisole,  just  as  electrocution  is  not 
hanging. 

A  camisole,  or,  as  I  prefer  to  stigmatize  it,  a  strait- 
jacket,  is  really  a  tight-fitting  coat  of  heavy  canvas,  reach- 
ing from  neck  to  waist,  constructed,  however,  on  no 
ordinary  pattern.  There  is  not  a  button  on  it.  The 
sleeves  are  closed  at  the  ends,  and  the  jacket,  having  no 
opening  in  front,  is  adjusted  and  tightly  laced  behind. 
To  the  end  of  each  blind  sleeve  is  attached  a  strong  cord. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  127 

The  cord  on  the  right  sleeve  is  carried  to  the  left  of  the 
body,  and  the  cord  on  the  left  sleeve  is  carried  to  the 
right  of  the  body.  Both  are  then  drawn  tightly  behind, 
thus  bringing  the  arms  of  the  victim  into  a  folded  posi- 
tion across  his  chest.     These  cords  are  then  securely  tied. 

When  I  planned  my  ruse  of  the  afternoon,  I  knew  per- 
fectly that  I  should  soon  find  myself  in  a  strait-jacket. 
The  thought  rather  took  my  fancy,  for  I  was  resolved  to 
know  the  inner  workings  of  the  violent  ward. 

The  piece  of  glass  with  which  I  had  that  morning 
written  the  motto  already  quoted,  I  had  appropriated  for 
a  purpose.  Knowing  that  I  should  soon  be  put  in  the 
uncomfortable,  but  not  necessarily  intolerable  embrace 
of  a  strait-jacket,  my  thought  was  that  I  might  during 
the  night,  in  some  way  or  other,  use  this  piece  of  glass  to 
advantage — perhaps  cut  my  way  to  a  limited  freedom. 
To  make  sure  that  I  should  retain  possession  of  it,  I 
placed  it  in  my  mouth  and  held  it  snugly  against  my 
cheek.  Its  presence  there  did  not  interfere  with  my 
speech;  nor  did  it  invite  visual  detection.  But  had  I 
known  as  much  about  strait-jackets  and  their  adjust- 
ment as  I  learned  later,  I  should  have  resorted  to  no 
such  futile  expedient. 

After  many  nights  of  torture,  this  jacket,  at  my  urgent 
and  repeated  request,  was  finally  adjusted  in  such  man- 
ner that,  had  it  been  so  adjusted  at  first,  I  need  not  have 
suffered  any  torture  at  all.  This  I  knew  at  the  time,  for 
I  had  not  failed  to  discuss  the  matter  with  a  patient  who 
on  several  occasions  had  been  restrained  in  this  same 
jacket. 


128  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

On  this  occasion  the  element  of  personal  spite  entered 
into  the  assistant  physician's  treatment  of  me.  The  man's 
personality  was  apparently  dual.  His  "Jekyll"  per- 
sonality was  the  one  most  in  evidence,  but  it  was  the 
"Hyde"  personality  that  seemed  to  control  his  actions 
when  a  crisis  arose.  It  was  " Doctor  Jekyll"  who  ap- 
proached my  room  that  night,  accompanied  by  the  attend- 
ants. The  moment  he  entered  my  room  he  became  "  Mr. 
Hyde."  He  was,  indeed,  no  longer  a  doctor,  or  the  sem- 
blance of  one.  His  first  move  was  to  take  the  strait- 
jacket  in  his  own  hands  and  order  me  to  stand.  Know- 
ing that  those  in  authority  really  believed  I  had  that 
day  attempted  to  kill  myself,  I  found  no  fault  with 
their  wish  to  put  me  in  restraint;  but  I  did  object 
to  having  this  done  by  JekyJl-Hyde.  Though  a  strait- 
jacket  should  always  be  adjusted  by  the  physician  in 
charge,  I  knew  that  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  disagreeable 
duty  was  invariably  assigned  to  the  attendants.  Conse- 
quently Jekyll-Hyde's  eagerness  to  assume  an  obliga- 
tion he  usually  shirked  gave  me  the  feeling  that  his 
motives  were  spiteful.  For  that  reason  I  preferred  to  en- 
trust myself  to  the  uncertain  mercies  of  a  regular  attend- 
ant; and  I  said  so,  but  in  vain.  "If  you  will  keep  your 
mouth  shut,  I'll  be  able  to  do  this  job  quicker,"  said 
Jekyll-Hyde. 

"I'll  shut  my  mouth  as  soon  as  you  get  out  of  this 
room  and  not  before,"  I  remarked.  Nor  did  I.  My 
abusive  language  was,  of  course,  interlarded  with  the 
inevitable  epithets.  The  more  I  talked,  the  more 
vindictive  he  became.     He  said  nothing,  but,  unhappily 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  129 

for  me,  he  expressed  his  pent-up  feelings  in  something 
more  effectual  than  words.  After  he  had  laced  the 
jacket,  and  drawn  my  arms  across  my  chest  so  snugly 
that  I  could  not  move  them  a  fraction  of  an  inch,  I 
asked  him  to  loosen  the  strait-jacket  enough  to  enable 
me  at  least  to  take  a  full  breath.  I  also  requested  him  to 
give  me  a  chance  to  adjust  my  fingers,  which  had  been 
caught  in  an  unnatural  and  uncomfortable  position. 

"If  you  will  keep  still  a  minute,  I  will,"  said  Jekyll- 
Hyde.  I  obeyed,  and  willingly  too,  for  I  did  not  care  to 
suffer  more  than  was  necessary.  Instead  of  loosening 
the  appliance  as  agreed,  this  doctor,  now  livid  with 
rage,  drew  the  cords  in  such  a  way  that  I  found  myself 
more  securely  and  cruelly  held  than  before.  This  breach 
of  faith  threw  me  into  a  frenzy.  Though  it  was  because 
his  continued  presence  served  to  increase  my  excitement 
that  Jekyll-Hyde  at  last  withdrew,  it  will  be  observed 
that  he  did  not  do  so  until  he  had  satisfied  an  unmanly 
desire  which  an  apparently  lurking  hatred  had  engen- 
dered. The  attendants  soon  withdrew  and  locked  me 
up  for  the  night. 

No  incidents  of  my  life  have  ever  impressed  themselves 
more  indelibly  on  my  memory  than  those  of  my  first 
night  in  a  strait-jacket.  Within  one  hour  of  the  time 
I  was  placed  in  it  I  was  suffering  pain  as  intense  as  any 
I  ever  endured,  and  before  the  night  had  passed  it  had 
become  almost  unbearable.  My  right  hand  was  so  held 
that  the  tip  of  one  of  my  fingers  was  all  but  cut  by  the 
nail  of  another,  and  soon  knifelike  pains  began  to  shoot 
through  my  right  arm  as   far  as   the  shoulder.     After 


130  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

four  or  five  hours  the  excess  of  pain  rendered  me  par- 
tially insensible  to  it.  But  for  fifteen  consecutive 
hours  I  remained  in  that  instrument  of  torture;  and 
not  until  the  twelfth  hour,  about  breakfast  time  the  next 
morning,  did  an  attendant  so  much  as  loosen  a  cord. 

During  the  first  seven  or  eight  hours,  excruciating 
pains  racked  not  only  my  arms,  but  half  of  my  body. 
Though  I  cried  and  moaned,  in  fact,  screamed  so 
loudly  that  the  attendants  must  have  heard  me,  little 
attention  was  paid  to  me — possibly  because  of  orders 
from  Mr.  Hyde  after  he  had  again  assumed  the  role 
of  Doctor  Jekyll.  I  even  begged  the  attendants  to 
loosen  the  jacket  enough  to  ease  me  a  little.  This  they 
refused  to  do,  and  they  even  seemed  to  enjoy  being  in  a 
position  to  add  their  considerable  mite  to  my  torture. 

Before  midnight  I  really  believed  that  I  should  be 
unable  to  endure  the  torture  and  retain  my  reason.  A 
peculiar  pricking  sensation  which  I  now  felt  in  my  brain, 
a  sensation  exactly  like  that  of  June,  1900,  led  me  to 
believe  that  I  might  again  be  thrown  out  of  touch  with 
the  world  I  had  so  lately  regained.  Realizing  the 
awfulness  of  that  fate,  I  redoubled  my  efforts  to  effect 
my  rescue.  Shortly  after  midnight  I  did  succeed  in 
gaining  the  attention  of  the  night  watch.  Upon  en- 
tering my  room  he  found  me  flat  on  the  floor.  I  had 
fallen  from  the  bed  and  perforce  remained  absolutely 
helpless  where  I  lay.  I  could  not  so  much  as  lift  my 
head.  This,  however,  was  not  the  fault  of  the  strait- 
jacket.  It  was  because  I  could  not  control  the  muscles 
of  my  neck  which  that  day  had   been   so   mauled.     I 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  131 

could  scarcely  swallow  the  water  the  night  watch  was 
good  enough  to  give  me.  He  was  not  a  bad  sort; 
yet  even  he  refused  to  let  out  the  cords  of  the  strait- 
jacket.  As  he  seemed  sympathetic,  I  can  attribute 
his  refusal  to  nothing  but  strict  orders  issued  by  the 
doctor. 

It  will  be  recalled  that  I  placed  a  piece  of  glass  in  my 
mouth  before  the  strait-jacket  was  adjusted.  At  mid- 
night the  glass  was  still  there.  After  the  refusal  of  the 
night  watch,  I  said  to  him:  "Then  I  want  you  to  go  to 
Doctor  Jekyll"  (I,  of  course,  called  him  by  his  right 
name;  but  to  do  so  now  would  be  to  prove  myself  as 
brutal  as  Mr.  Hyde  himself).  "Tell  him  to  come  here 
at  once  and  loosen  this  jacket.  I  can't  endure  the  tor- 
ture much  longer.  After  fighting  two  years  to  regain 
my  reason,  I  believe  I'll  lose  it  again.  You  have 
always  treated  me  kindly.  For  God's  sake,  get  the 
doctor !" 

"I  can't  leave  the  main  building  at  this  time,"  the 
night  watch  said.  (Jekyll-Hyde  lived  in  a  house  about 
one-eighth  of  a  mile  distant,  but  within  the  hospital 
grounds.) 

"Then  will  you  take  a  message  to  the  assistant 
physician  who  stays  here?"  (A  colleague  of  Jekyll- 
Hyde  had  apartments  in  the  main  building.) 

"I'll  do  that,"  he  replied. 

"Tell  him  how  I'm  suffering.  Ask  him  to  please  come 
here  at  once  and  ease  this  strait-jacket.  If  he  doesn't, 
I'll  be  as  crazy  by  morning  as  I  ever  was.  Also  tell  him 
I'll  kill  myself  unless  he  comes,  and  I  can  do  it,  too.     I 


132  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

have  a  piece  of  glass  in  this  room  and  I  know  just  what 
I'll  do  with  it." 

The  night  watch  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  after- 
wards told  me  that  he  had  delivered  my  message.  The 
doctor  ignored  it.  He  did  not  come  near  me  that  night, 
nor  the  next  day,  nor  did  Jekyll-Hyde  appear  until  his 
usual  round  of  inspection  about  eleven  o'clock  the  next 
morning. 

"I  understand  that  you  have  a  piece  of  glass  which  you 
threatened  to  use  for  a  suicidal  purpose  last  night, " 
he  said,  when  he  appeared. 

"Yes,  I  have,  and  it's  not  your  fault  or  the  other 
doctor's  that  I  am  not  dead.  Had  I  gone  mad,  in  my 
frenzy  I  might  have  swallowed  that  glass." 

"Where  is  it?"  asked  the  doctor,  incredulously. 

As  my  strait-jacket  rendered  me  armless,  I  presented 
the  glass  to  Jekyll-Hyde  on  the  tip  of  a  tongue  he  had 
often  heard,  but  never  before  seen. 


XVII 

After  fifteen  interminable  hours  the  strait- jacket  was 
removed.  Whereas  just  prior  to  its  putting  on  I  had  been 
in  a  vigorous  enough  condition  to  offer  stout  resistance 
when  wantonly  assaulted,  now,  on  coming  out  of  it,  I 
was  helpless.  When  my  arms  were  released  from  their 
constricted  position,  the  pain  was  intense.  Every  joint 
had  been  racked.  I  had  no  control  over  the  fingers 
of  either  hand,  and  could  not  have  dressed  myself  had 
I  been  promised  my  freedom  for  doing  so. 

For  more  than  the  following  week  I  suffered  as  already 
described,  though  of  course  with  gradually  decreasing 
intensity  as  my  racked  body  became  accustomed  to  the 
unnatural  positions  it  was  forced  to  take.  This  first 
experience  occurred  on  the  night  of  October  18th,  1902. 
I  was  subjected  to  the  same  unfair,  unnecessary,  and 
unscientific  ordeal  for  twenty-one  consecutive  nights 
and  parts  of  each  of  the  corresponding  twenty-one  days. 
On  more  than  one  occasion,  indeed,  the  attendant  placed 
me  in  the  strait-jacket  during  the  day  for  refusing  to 
obey  some  trivial  command.  This,  too,  without  an 
explicit  order  from  the  doctor  in  charge,  though  per- 
haps he  acted  under  a  general  order. 

During  most  of  this  time  I  was  held  also  in  seclusion 
in  a  padded  cell.  A  padded  cell  is  a  vile  hole.  The 
side  walls  are  padded  as  high  as  a  man  can  reach,  as  is 

133 


134  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

also  the  inside  of  the  door.  One  of  the  worst  features 
of  such  cells  is  the  lack  of  ventilation,  which  deficiency 
of  course  aggravates  their  general  unsanitary  condition. 
The  cell  which  I  was  forced  to  occupy  was  practically 
without  heat,  and  as  winter  was  coming  on,  I  suffered 
intensely  from  the  cold.  Frequently  it  was  so  cold  I 
could  see  my  breath.  Though  my  canvas  jacket  served 
to  protect  part  of  that  body  which  it  was  at  the  same 
time  racking,  I  was  seldom  comfortably  warm;  for,  once 
uncovered,  my  arms  being  pinioned,  I  had  no  way  of 
rearranging  the  blankets.  What  little  sleep  I  managed 
to  get  I  took  lying  on  a  hard  mattress  placed  on  the  bare 
floor.  The  condition  of  the  mattress  I  found  in  the 
cell  was  such  that  I  objected  to  its  further  use,  and  the 
fact  that  another  was  supplied,  at  a  time  when  few  of 
my  requests  were  being  granted,  proves  its  disgusting 
condition. 

For  this  period  of  three  weeks — from  October  18th 
until  November  8th,  1902,  when  I  left  this  institution 
and  was  transferred  to  a  state  hospital — I  was  con- 
tinuously either  under  lock  and  key  (in  the  padded  cell  or 
some  other  room)  or  under  the  eye  of  an  attendant.  Over 
half  the  time  I  was  in  the  snug,  but  cruel  embrace  of  a 
strait- jacket — about  three  hundred  hours  in  all. 

While  being  subjected  to  this  terrific  abuse  I  was 
held  in  exile.  I  was  cut  off  from  all  direct  and  all 
honest  indirect  communication  with  my  legally  ap- 
pointed conservator — my  own  brother — and  also  with 
all  other  relatives  and  friends.  I  was  even  cut  off 
from    satisfactory    communication    with    the    superin- 


A  MIND    THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  135 

tendent.  I  saw  him  but  twice,  and  then  for  so  short 
a  time  that  I  was  unable  to  give  him  any  convinc- 
ing idea  of  my  plight.  These  interviews  occurred  on 
two  Sundays  that  fell  within  my  period  of  exile,  for 
it  was  on  Sunday  that  the  superintendent  usually  made 
his  weekly  round  of  inspection. 

What  chance  had  I  of  successfully  pleading  my 
case,  while  my  pulpit  was  a  padded  cell,  and  the 
congregation — with  the  exception  of  the  superintendent 
— the  very  ones  who  had  been  abusing  me?  At  such 
times  my  pent-up  indignation  poured  itself  forth 
in  such  a  disconnected  way  that  my  protests  were 
robbed  of  their  right  ring  of  truth.  I  was  not  inco- 
herent in  speech.  I  was  simply  voluble  and  digressive — 
a  natural  incident  of  elation.  Such  notes  as  I  managed 
to  write  on  scraps  of  paper  were  presumably  confiscated 
by  Jekyll-Hyde.  At  all  events,  it  was  not  until  some 
months  later  that  the  superintendent  was  informed  of 
my  treatment,  when,  at  my  request  (though  I  was 
then  elsewhere),  the  Governor  of  the  State  discussed 
the  subject  with  him.  How  I  brought  about  that  dis- 
cussion while  still  virtually  a  prisoner  in  another  place 
will  be  narrated  in  due  time.  And  not  until  several 
days  after  I  had  left  this  institution  and  had  been 
placed  in  another,  when  for  the  first  time  in  six 
weeks  I  saw  my  conservator,  did  he  learn  of  the  treat- 
ment to  which  I  had  been  subjected.  From  his  office 
in  New  Haven  he  had  telephoned  several  times  to  the 
assistant  physician  and  inquired  about  my  condition. 
Though  Jekyll-Hyde  did  tell  him  that  I  was  highly  ex- 


136  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

cited  and  difficult  to  control,  he  did  not  even  hint  that 
I  was  being  subjected  to  any  unusual  restraint.  Doctor 
Jekyll  deceived  everyone,  and  —  as  things  turned  out 
—  deceived  himself;  for  had  he  realized  then  that  I 
should  one  day  be  able  to  do  what  I  have  since  done, 
his  brutality  would  surely  have  been  held  in  check  by 
his  discretion. 

How  helpless,  how  at  the  mercy  of  his  keepers,  a 
patient  may  be  is  further  illustrated  by  the  conduct  of 
this  same  man.  Once,  during  the  third  week  of  my 
nights  in  a  strait-jacket,  I  refused  to  take  certain  medicine 
which  an  attendant  offered  me.  For  some  time  I  had 
been  regularly  taking  this  innocuous  concoction  without 
protest;  but  I  now  decided  that,  as  the  attendant  refused 
most  of  my  requests,  I  should  no  longer  comply  with  all 
of  his.  He  did  not  argue  the  point  with  me.  He 
simply  reported  my  refusal  to  Doctor  Jekyll.  A  few 
minutes  later  Doctor  Jekyll— or  rather  Mr.  Hyde — 
accompanied  by  three  attendants,  entered  the  padded 
cell.  I  was  robed  for  the  night— in  a  strait-jacket. 
Mr.  Hyde  held  in  his  hand  a  rubber  tube.  An  attend- 
ant stood  near  with  the  medicine.  For  over  two  years, 
the  common  threat  had  been  made  that  the  "tube" 
would  be  resorted  to  if  I  refused  medicine  or  food.  I 
had  begun  to  look  upon  it  as  a  myth;  but  its  presence 
in  the  hands  of  an  oppressor  now  convinced  me  of  its 
reality.  I  saw  that  the  doctor  and  his  bravos  meant 
business;  and  as  I  had  already  endured  torture  enough, 
I  determined  to  make  every  concession  this  time  and 
escape  what  seemed  to  be  in  store  for  me. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  137 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that?"  I  asked, 
eyeing  the  tube. 

"The  attendant  says  you  refuse  to  take  your  medicine. 
We  are  going  to  make  you  take  it." 

"I'D  take  your  old  medicine,"  was  my  reply. 

"You  have  had  your  chance." 

"All  right,"  I  said.  "Put  that  medicine  into  me  any 
way  you  think  best.  But  the  time  will  come  when  you'll 
wish  you  hadn't.  When  that  time  does  come  it  won't 
be  easy  to  prove  that  you  had  the  right  to  force  a  patient 
to  take  medicine  he  had  offered  to  take.  I  know  some- 
thing about  the  ethics  of  your  profession.  You  have  no 
right  to  do  anything  to  a  patient  except  what's  good  for 
him.  You  know  that.  All  you  are  trying  to  do  is  to 
punish  me,  and  I  give  you  fair  warning  I'm  going  to  camp 
on  your  trail  till  you  are  not  only  discharged  from  this 
institution,  but  expelled  from  the  State  Medical  Society 
as  well.  You  are  a  disgrace  to  your  profession,  and  that 
society  will  attend  to  your  case  fast  enough  when  cer- 
tain members  of  it,  who  are  friends  of  mine,  hear  about 
this.  Furthermore,  I  shall  report  your  conduct  to  the 
Governor  of  the  State.  He  can  take  some  action  even 
if  this  is  not  a  state  institution.  Now,  damn  you,  do 
your  worst!" 

Coming  from  one  in  my  condition,  this  was  rather 
straight  talk.  The  doctor  was  visibly  disconcerted.  Had 
he  not  feared  to  lose  caste  with  the  attendants  who  stood 
by,  I  think  he  would  have  given  me  another  chance.  But 
he  had  too  much  pride  and  too  little  manhood  to  recede 
from  a  false  position  already  taken.     I  no  longer  resisted, 


138  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

even  verbally,  for  I  no  longer  wanted  the  doctor  to  desist. 
Though  I  did  not  anticipate  the  operation  with  pleasure, 
I  was  eager  to  take  the  man's  measure.  He  and  the 
attendants  knew  that  I  usually  kept  a  trick  or  two  even 
up  the  sleeve  of  a  strait-jacket,  so  they  took  added  pre- 
cautions. I  was  flat  on  my  back,  with  simply  a  mattress 
between  me  and  the  floor.  One  attendant  held  me. 
Another  stood  by  with  the  medicine  and  with  a  funnel 
through  which,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Hyde  should  insert  the 
tube  in  one  of  my  nostrils,  the  dose  was  to  be  poured. 
The  third  attendant  stood  near  as  a  reserve  force. 
Though  the  insertion  of  the  tube,  when  skilfully  done, 
need  not  cause  suffering,  the  operation  as  conducted 
by  Mr.  Hyde  was  painful.  Try  as  he  would,  he  was 
unable  to  insert  the  tube  properly,  though  in  no  way 
did  I  attempt  to  balk  him.  His  embarrassment  seemed 
to  rob  his  hand  of  whatever  cunning  it  may  have 
possessed.  After  what  seemed  ten  minutes  of  bungling, 
though  it  was  probably  not  half  that,  he  gave  up  the 
attempt,  but  not  until  my  nose  had  begun  to  bleed. 
He  was  plainly  chagrined  when  he  and  his  bravos  retired. 
Intuitively  I  felt  that  they  would  soon  return.  That 
they  did,  armed  with  a  new  implement  of  war.  This 
time  the  doctor  inserted  between  my  teeth  a  large  wooden 
peg — to  keep  open  a  mouth  which  he  usually  wanted 
shut.  He  then  forced  down  my  throat  a  rubber  tube,  the 
attendant  adjusted  the  funnel,  and  the  medicine,  or 
rather  liquid — for  its  medicinal  properties  were  without 
effect  upon  me — was  poured  in. 
As  the  scant  reports  sent  to  my  conservator  during 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  139 

these  three  weeks  indicated  that  I  was  not  improving 
as  he  had  hoped,  he  made  a  special  trip  to  the  institu- 
tion to  investigate  in  person.  On  his  arrival  he  was 
met  by  none  other  than  Doctor  Jekyll,  who  told  him  that 
I  was  in  a  highly  excited  condition,  which,  he  intimated, 
would  be  aggravated  by  a  personal  interview.  Now  for 
a  man  to  see  his  brother  in  such  a  plight  as  mine  would 
be  a  distressing  ordeal,  and,  though  my  conservator  came 
within  a  few  hundred  feet  of  my  prison  cell,  it  naturally 
took  but  a  suggestion  to  dissuade  him  from  coming 
nearer.  Doctor  Jekyll  did  tell  him  that  it  had  been  found 
necessary  to  place  me  in  "restraint"  and  "seclusion" 
(the  professional  euphemisms  for  "strait- jacket," 
"padded  cell,"  etc.),  but  no  hint  was  given  that  I  had 
been  roughly  handled.  Doctor  JekylTs  politic  dissua- 
sion was  no  doubt  inspired  by  the  knowledge  that  if  ever 
I  got  within  speaking  distance  of  my  conservator,  nothing 
could  prevent  my  giving  him  a  circumstantial  account 
of  my  sufferings — which  account  would  have  been 
corroborated  by  the  blackened  eye  I  happened  to  have 
at  the  time.  Indeed,  in  dealing  with  my  conservator 
the  assistant  physician  showed  a  degree  of  tact  which, 
had  it  been  directed  toward  myself,  would  have  sufficed 
to  keep  me  tolerably  comfortable. 

My  conservator,  though  temporarily  stayed,  was  not 
convinced.  He  felt  that  I  was  not  improving  where  I 
was,  and  he  wisely  decided  that  the  best  course  would 
be  to  have  me  transferred  to  a  public  institution — the 
State  Hospital.  A  few  days  later  the  judge  who  had 
originally  committed  me  ordered  my  transfer.    Nothing 


140  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

was  said  to  me  about  the  proposed  change  until  the 
moment  of  departure,  and  then  I  could  scarcely  believe 
my  ears.  In  fact  I  did  not  believe  my  informant;  for 
three  weeks  of  abuse,  together  with  my  continued 
inability  to  get  in  touch  with  my  conservator,  had  so 
shaken  my  reason  that  there  was  a  partial  recurrence  of 
old  delusions.  I  imagined  myself  on  the  way  to  the 
State  Prison,  a  few  miles  distant;  and  not  until  the  train 
had  passed  the  prison  station  did  I  believe  that  I  was 
really  on  my  way  to  the  State  Hospital. 


xvin 

The  State  Hospital  in  which  I  now  found  myself, 
the  third  institution  to  which  I  had  been  committed, 
though  in  many  respects  above  the  average  of  such 
institutions,  was  typical.  It  commanded  a  wide  view  of 
a  beautiful  river  and  valley.  This  view  I  was  permitted 
to  enjoy — at  first.  Those  in  charge  of  the  institution 
which  I  had  just  left  did  not  give  my  new  custodians  any 
detailed  account  of  my  case.  Their  reticence  was,  I 
believe,  occasioned  by  chagrin  rather  than  charity. 
Tamers  of  wild  men  have  as  much  pride  as  tamers  of 
wild  animals  (but  unfortunately  less  skill)  and  to  admit 
defeat  is  a  thing  not  to  be  thought  of.  Though  private 
institutions  are  prone  to  shift  their  troublesome  cases 
to  state  institutions,  there  is  too  often  a  deplorable  lack 
of  sympathy  and  co-operation  between  them,  which,  in 
this  instance,  however,  proved  fortunate  for  me. 

From  October  18th  until  the  early  afternoon  of  Novem- 
ber 8th,  at  the  private  institution,  I  had  been  classed  as  a 
raving  maniac.  The  name  I  had  brought  upon  myself 
by  experimental  conduct;  the  condition  had  been  aggra- 
vated and  perpetuated  by  the  stupidity  of  those  in 
authority  over  me.  And  it  was  the  same  experimental 
conduct  on  my  part,  and  stupidity  on  the  part  of  my 
new  custodians,  which  gave  rise,  two  weeks  later,  to  a 
similar  situation.     On  Friday,  November  7th,  I  was  in 

141 


142  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  strait- jacket.  On  November  9th  and  10th  I  was 
apparently  as  tractable  as  any  of  the  twenty-three 
hundred  patients  in  the  State  Hospital — convention- 
ally clothed,  mild  mannered,  and,  seemingly,  right 
minded.  On  the  9th,  the  day  after  my  arrival,  I 
attended  a  church  service  held  at  the  hospital.  My 
behavior  was  not  other  than  that  of  the  most  pious  wor- 
shipper in  the  land.  The  next  evening,  with  most 
exemplary  deportment,  I  attended  one  of  the  dances 
which  are  held  every  fortnight  during  the  winter.  Had 
I  been  a  raving  maniac,  such  activities  would  have  Jed 
to  a  disturbance;  for  maniacs,  of  necessity,  disregard 
the  conventions  of  both  pious  and  polite  society.  Yet, 
on  either  of  these  days,  had  I  been  in  the  private  insti- 
tution which  I  had  recently  left,  I  should  have  occupied 
a  cell  and  worn  a  strait-jacket. 

The  assistant  superintendent,  who  received  me  upon 
my  arrival,  judged  me  by  my  behavior.  He  assigned 
me  to  one  of  two  connecting  wards — the  best  in  the  hos- 
pital— where  about  seventy  patients  led  a  fairly  agree- 
able life.  Though  no  official  account  of  my  case  had 
accompanied  my  transfer,  the  attendant  who  had  acted 
as  escort  and  guard  had  already  given  an  attendant  at 
the  State  Hospital  a  brief  account  of  my  recent  experi- 
ences. Yet  when  this  report  finally  reached  the  ears 
of  those  in  authority,  they  wisely  decided  not  to  trans- 
fer me  to  another  ward  so  long  as  I  caused  no  trouble 
where  I  was.  Finding  myself  at  last  among  friends,  I 
lost  no  time  in  asking  for  writing  and  drawing  materials, 
which  had  so  rudely  been  taken  from  me  three  weeks 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  143 

earlier.  My  request  was  promptly  granted.  The 
doctors  and  attendants  treated  me  kindly  and  I  again 
began  to  enjoy  life.  My  desire  to  write  and  draw  had 
not  abated.  However,  I  did  not  devote  my  entire  time 
to  those  pursuits,  for  there  were  plenty  of  congenial 
companions  about.  I  found  pleasure  in  talking — more 
pleasure  by  far  than  others  did  in  listening.  In  fact  I 
talked  incessantly,  and  soon  made  known,  in  a  general 
way,  my  scheme  for  reforming  institutions,  not  only  in  my 
native  State,  but,  of  course,  throughout  the  world,  for  my 
grandiose  perspective  made  the  earth  look  small.  The 
attendants  had  to  bear  the  brunt  of  my  loquacity,  and 
they  soon  grew  weary.  One  of  them,  wishing  to  induce 
silence,  ventured  to  remark  that  I  was  so  "crazy"  I 
could  not  possibly  keep  my  mouth  shut  for  even  one 
minute.  It  was  a  challenge  which  aroused  my  fighting 
spirit. 

"  I'll  show  you  that  I  can  stop  talking  for  a  whole  day," 
I  said.  He  laughed,  knowing  that  of  all  difficult  tasks 
this  which  I  had  imposed  upon  myself  was,  for  one  in 
my  condition,  least  likely  of  accomplishment.  But  I 
was  as  good  as  my  boast.  Until  the  same  hour  the  next 
day  I  refused  to  speak  to  anyone.  I  did  not  even  reply 
to  civil  questions;  and,  though  my  silence  was  delib- 
erate and  good-natured,  the  assistant  physician  seemed 
to  consider  it  of  a  contumacious  variety,  for  he  threatened 
to  transfer  me  to  a  less  desirable  ward  unless  I  should 
again  begin  to  talk. 

That  day  of  self-hnposed  silence  was  about  the  longest 
I  have  ever  lived,  for  I  was  under  a  word  pressure 


144  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

sufficient  to  have  filled  a  book.  Any  psychiatrist  will 
admit  that  my  performance  was  remarkable,  and  he  will 
further  agree  that  it  was,  at  least,  an  indication  of  a  high 
degree  of  self-control.  Though  I  have  no  desire  to 
prove  that  at  this  period  I  was  not  in  an  abnormal  con- 
dition, I  do  wish  to  show  that  I  had  a  degree  of  self- 
control  that  probably  would  have  enabled  me  to  remain 
in  the  best  ward  at  this  institution  had  I  not  been  intent 
— abnormally  intent,  of  course,  and  yet  with  a  high 
degree  of  deliberation — upon  a  reformative  investigation. 
The  crest  of  my  wave  of  elation  had  been  reached  early 
in  October.  It  was  now  (November)  that  the  curve 
representing  my  return  to  normality  should  have  been 
continuous  and  diminishing.  Instead,  it  was  kept 
violently  fluctuating — or  at  least  its  fluctuations  were 
aggravated — by  the  impositions  of  those  in  charge  of 
me,  induced  sometimes,  I  freely  admit,  by  deliberate 
and  purposeful  transgressions  of  my  own.  My  condi- 
tion during  my  three  weeks  of  exile  just  ended,  had  been, 
if  anything,  one  of  milder  excitement  than  that  which 
had  obtained  previously  during  the  first  seven  weeks  of 
my  period  of  elation.  And  my  condition  during  the  two 
weeks  I  now  remained  in  the  best  ward  in  the  State 
Hospital  was  not  different  from  my  condition  during 
the  preceding  three  weeks  of  torture,  or  the  succeeding 
three  weeks  of  abuse  and  privation,  except  in  so  far  as  a 
difference  was  occasioned  by  the  torture  and  privation 
themselves. 

Though   I  had  long  intended   to   effect   reforms   in 
existing  methods  of  treatment,  my  reckless  desire  to  in- 


A   MIND    THAT   FOUND    ITSELF  145 

vestigate  violent  wards  did  not  possess  me  until  I  my- 
self had  experienced  the  torture  of  continued  confinement 
in  one  such  ward  before  coming  to  this  state  institution. 
It  was  simple  to  deduce  that  if  one  could  suffer  such 
abuses  as  I  had  while  a  patient  in  a  private  institution — 
nay,  in  two  private  institutions — brutality  must  exist  in 
a  state  hospital  also.  Thus  it  was  that  I  entered  the 
State  Hospital  with  a  firm  resolve  to  inspect  person- 
ally every  type  of  ward,  good  and  bad. 

But  I  was  in  no  hurry  to  begin.  My  recent  experi- 
ence had  exhausted  me,  and  I  wished  to  regain  strength 
before  subjecting  myself  to  another  such  ordeal.  This 
desire  to  recuperate  controlled  my  conduct  for  a  while, 
but  its  influence  gradually  diminished  as  life  became 
more  and  more  monotonous.  I  soon  found  the  good 
ward  entirely  too  polite.  I  craved  excitement — action. 
And  I  determined  to  get  it  regardless  of  consequences; 
though  I  am  free  to  confess  I  should  not  have  had  the 
courage  to  proceed  with  my  plan  had  I  known  what  was 
in  store  for  me. 

About  this  time  my  conservator  called  to  see  me.  Of 
course,  I  told  him  all  about  my  cruel  experiences  at  the 
private  institution.  My  account  surprised  and  dis- 
tressed him.  I  also  told  him  that  I  knew  for  a  fact  that 
similar  conditions  existed  at  the  State  Hospital,  as  I  had 
heard  convincing  rumors  to  that  effect.  He  urged  me 
to  behave  myself  and  remain  in  the  ward  where  I  was, 
which  ward,  as  I  admitted,  was  all  that  one  could  desire 
— provided  one  had  schooled  himself  to  desire  that  sort 
of  thing. 


146  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

The  fact  that  I  was  under  lock  and  key  and  behind 
what  were  virtually  prison  bars  in  no  way  gave  me  a 
sense  of  helplessness.  I  firmly  believed  that  I  should 
find  it  easy  to  effect  my  escape  and  reach  home  for  the 
Thanksgiving  Day  celebration.  And,  furthermore,  I 
knew  that,  should  I  reach  home,  I  should  not  be  denied 
my  portion  of  the  good  things  to  eat  before  being  returned 
to  the  hospital.  Being  under  the  spell  of  an  intense 
desire  to  investigate  the  violent  ward,  I  concluded 
that  the  time  for  action  had  come.  I  reasoned,  too, 
that  it  would  be  easier  and  safer  to  escape  from  that 
ward — which  was  on  a  level  with  the  ground — than 
from  a  ward  three  stories  above  it.  The  next  thing  I 
did  was  to  inform  the  attendants  (not  to  mention  sev- 
eral of  the  patients)  that  within  a  day  or  two  I  should 
do  something  to  cause  my  removal  to  it.  They  of 
course  did  not  believe  that  I  had  any  idea  of  deliberately 
inviting  such  a  transfer.  My  very  frankness  disarmed 
them. 

On  the  evening  of  November  21st,  I  went  from  room 
to  room  collecting  all  sorts  of  odds  and  ends  belonging 
to  other  patients.  These  I  secreted  in  my  room.  I 
also  collected  a  small  library  of  books,  magazines  and 
newspapers.  After  securing  all  the  booty  I  dared,  I 
mingled  with  the  other  patients  until  the  time  came 
for  going  to  bed.  The  attendants  soon  locked  me  in 
my  junk  shop  and  I  spent  the  rest  of  the  night  setting 
it  in  disorder.  My  original  plan  had  been  to  barricade 
the  door  during  the  night,  and  thus  hold  the  doctors  and 
attendants  at  bay  until  those  in  authority  had  accepted 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  147 

my  ultimatum,  which  was  to  include  a  Thanksgiving 
visit  at  home.  But  before  morning  I  had  slightly  altered 
my  plan.  My  sleepless  night  of  activity  had  made  me 
ravenously  hungry,  and  I  decided  that  it  would  be 
wiser  not  only  to  fill  my  stomach,  but  to  lay  by  other 
supplies  of  food  before  submitting  to  a  siege.  Accord- 
ingly I  set  things  to  rights  and  went  about  my  business 
the  next  morning  as  usual.  At  breakfast  I  ate  enough 
for  two  men,  and  put  in  my  pockets  bread  enough  to  last 
for  twenty-four  hours  at  least.  Then  I  returned  to  my 
room  and  at  once  barricaded  the  door.  My  barricade 
consisted  of  a  wardrobe,  several  drawers  which  I  had 
removed  from  the  bureau,  and  a  number  of  books — 
among  them  "Paradise  Lost"  and  the  Bible.  These, 
with  conscious  satisfaction,  I  placed  in  position  as  a 
keystone.  Thus  the  floor  space  between  the  door  and 
the  opposite  wall  of  the  room  was  completely  filled.  My 
roommate,  a  young  fellow  in  the  speechless  condition 
in  which  I  had  been  during  my  period  of  depression,  was 
in  the  room  with  me.  This  was  accidental.  It  was 
no  part  of  my  plan  to  hold  him  as  a  hostage,  though  I 
might  finally  have  used  him  as  a  pawn  in  the  negotia- 
tions, had  my  barricade  resisted  the  impending  attack 
longer  than  it  did. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  attendants  realized  that 
something  was  wrong.  They  came  to  my  door  and 
asked  me  to  open  it.  I  refused,  and  told  them  that  to 
argue  the  point  would  be  a  waste  of  time.  They  tried 
to  force  an  entrance.  Failing  in  that,  they  reported  to 
the  assistant  physician,  who  soon  appeared.     At  first  he 


148  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

parleyed  with  me.  I  good-naturedly,  but  emphatically, 
told  him  that  I  could  not  be  talked  out  of  the  position 
I  had  taken;  nor  could  I  be  taken  out  of  it  until  I  was 
ready  to  surrender,  for  my  barricade  was  one  that  would 
surely  hold.  I  also  announced  that  I  had  carefully 
planned  my  line  of  action  and  knew  what  I  was  about. 
I  complimented  him  on  his  hitherto  tactful  treatment  of 
me,  and  grandiloquently — yet  sincerely — thanked  him 
for  his  many  courtesies.  I  also  expressed  entire  satisfac- 
tion with  the  past  conduct  of  the  attendants.  In  fact, 
on  part  of  the  institution  I  put  the  stamp  of  my 
approval.  "  But,"  I  said,  "  I  know  there  are  wards 
in  this  hospital  where  helpless  patients  are  brutally 
treated;  and  I  intend  to  put  a  stop  to  these  abuses  at 
once.  Not  until  the  Governor  of  the  State,  the  judge 
who  committed  me,  and  my  conservator  come  to  this 
door  will  I  open  it.  When  they  arrive,  we'll  see  whether 
or  not  patients  are  to  be  robbed  of  their  rights  and 
abused." 

My  speech  was  made  through  a  screen  transom  over 
the  door.  For  a  few  minutes  the  doctor  continued  his 
persuasive  methods,  but  that  he  should  even  imagine 
that  I  would  basely  recede  from  my  high  and  mighty 
position  only  irritated  me  the  more. 

"You  can  stand  outside  that  door  all  day  if  you 
choose,"  I  said.  "I  won't  open  it  until  the  three  men 
I  have  named  appear.  I  have  prepared  for  a  siege;  and 
I  have  enough  food  in  this  room  to  keep  me  going  for  a 
day  anyway." 

Realizing    at    last    that   no  argument    would  move 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  149 

me,  he  set  about  forcing  an  entrance.  First  he  tried 
to  remove  the  transom  by  striking  it  with  a  stout  stick. 
I  gave  blow  for  blow  and  the  transom  remained  in 
place.  A  carpenter  was  then  sent  for,  but  before 
he  could  go  about  his  work  one  of  the  attendants 
managed  to  open  the  door  enough  to  thrust  in  his 
arm  and  shove  aside  my  barricade.  I  did  not  realize 
what  was  being  done  until  it  was  too  late  to  interfere. 
The  door  once  open,  in  rushed  the  doctor  and  four  attend- 
ants. Without  ceremony  I  was  thrown  upon  the  bed, 
with  two  or  three  of  the  attacking  force  on  top  of  me. 
Again  I  was  choked,  this  time  by  the  doctor.  The 
operation  was  a  matter  of  only  a  moment.  But 
before  it  was  over  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  deal  the 
doctor  a  stinging  blow  on  the  jaw,  for  which  (as  he  was 
about  my  own  age  and  the  odds  were  five  to  one)  I  have 
never  felt  called  upon  to  apologize. 

Once  I  was  subdued,  each  of  the  four  attendants 
attached  himself  to  a  leg  or  an  arm  and,  under  the  direc- 
tion and  leadership  of  the  doctor,  I  was  carried  bodily 
through  two  corridors,  down  two  flights  of  stairs,  and 
to  the  violent  ward.  My  dramatic  exit  startled  my 
fellow-patients,  for  so  much  action  in  so  short  a  time 
is  seldom  seen  in  a  quiet  ward.  And  few  patients  placed 
in  the  violent  ward  are  introduced  with  so  impressive 
an  array  of  camp-followers  as  I  had  that  day. 

All  this  to  me  was  a  huge  joke,  with  a  good  purpose 
behind  it.  Though  excited  I  was  good-natured  and, 
on  the  way  to  my  new  quarters,  I  said  to  the  doctor: 
"Whether  you  believe  it  or  not,  it's  a  fact  that  I'm  going 


150  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  reform  these  institutions  before  I'm  done.  I  raised 
this  rumpus  to  make  you  transfer  me  to  the  violent 
ward.  What  I  want  you  to  do  now  is  to  show  me  the 
worst  you've  got." 

"You  needn't  worry/'  the  doctor  said.  "You'll 
get  it." 

He  spoke  the  truth. 


XIX 

Even  for  a  violent  ward  my  entrance  was  spectac- 
ular— if  not  dramatic.  The  three  attendants  regularly 
in  charge  naturally  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that,  in 
me,  a  troublesome  patient  had  been  foisted  upon  them. 
They  noted  my  arrival  with  an  unpleasant  curiosity, 
which  in  turn  aroused  my  curiosity,  for  it  took  but  a 
glance  to  convince  me  that  my  burly  keepers  were  typical 
attendants  of  the  brute-force  type.  Acting  on  the  order 
of  the  doctor  in  charge,  one  of  them  stripped  me  of  my 
outer  garments;  and,  clad  in  nothing  but  underclothes, 
I  was  thrust  into  a  cell. 

Few,  if  any,  prisons  in  this  country  contain  worse 
holes  than  this  cell  proved  to  be.  It  was  one  of  five, 
situated  in  a  short  corridor  adjoining  the  main  ward. 
It  was  about  six  feet  wide  by  ten  long  and  of  a  good 
height.  A  heavily  screened  and  barred  window  admitted 
light  and  a  negligible  quantity  of  air,  for  the  ventilation 
scarcely  deserved  the  name.  The  walls  and  floor  were 
bare,  and  there  was  no  furniture.  A  patient  confined  here 
must  He  on  the  floor  with  no  substitute  for  a  bed  but  one 
or  two  felt  druggets.  Sleeping  under  such  conditions 
becomes  tolerable  after  a  time,  but  not  until  one  has 
become  accustomed  to  lying  on  a  surface  nearly  as  hard 
as  a  stone.  Here  (as  well,  indeed,  as  in  other  parts  of 
the  ward)  for  a  period  of  three  weeks  I  was  again  forced 

151 


152  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  breathe  and  rebreathe  air  so  vitiated  that  even  when 
I  occupied  a  larger  room  in  the  same  ward,  doctors  and 
attendants  seldom  entered  without  remarking  its  quality. 

My  first  meal  increased  my  distaste  for  my  semi-socio- 
logical experiment.  For  over  a  month  I  was  kept  in  a 
half-starved  condition.  At  each  meal,  to  be  sure,  I 
was  given  as  much  food  as  was  served  to  other  patients, 
but  an  average  portion  was  not  adequate  to  the  needs 
of  a  patient  as  active  as  I  was  at  this  time. 

Worst  of  all,  winter  was  approaching  and  these,  my 
first  quarters,  were  without  heat.  As  my  olfactory 
nerves  soon  became  uncommunicative,  the  breathing  of 
foul  air  was  not  a  hardship.  On  the  other  hand,  to  be 
famished  the  greater  part  of  the  time  was  a  very  conscious 
hardship.  But  to  be  half -frozen,  day  in  and  day  out 
for  a  long  period,  was  exquisite  torture.  Of  all  the  suffer- 
ing I  endured,  that  occasioned  by  confinement  in  cold 
cells  seems  to  have  made  the  most  lasting  impression. 
Hunger  is  a  local  disturbance,  but  when  one  is  cold,  every 
nerve  in  the  body  registers  its  call  for  help.  Long 
before  reading  a  certain  passage  of  De  Quincey's  I  had 
decided  that  cold  could  cause  greater  suffering  than 
hunger;  consequently,  it  was  with  great  satisfaction 
that  I  read  the  following  sentences  from  his  " Confes- 
sions": "0  ancient  women,  daughters  of  toil  and  suf- 
fering, among  all  the  hardships  and  bitter  inheritances 
of  flesh  that  ye  are  called  upon  to  face,  not  one — not 
even  hunger — seems  in  my  eyes  comparable  to  that  of 
nightly  cold.  ...  A  more  killing  curse  there  does  not 
exist  for  man  or  woman  than  the  bitter  combat  between 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  153 

the  weariness  that  prompts  sleep  and  the  keen,  search- 
ing cold  that  forces  you  from  that  first  access  of  sleep 
to  start  up  horror-stricken,  and  to  seek  warmth  vainly 
in  renewed  exercise,  though  long  since  fainting  under 
fatigue." 

The  hardness  of  the  bed  and  the  coldness  of  the  room 
were  not  all  that  interfered  with  sleep.  The  short 
corridor  in  which  I  was  placed  was  known  as  the  "Bull 
Pen" — a  phrase  eschewed  by  the  doctors.  It  was  usually 
in  an  uproar,  especially  during  the  dark  hours  of  the 
early  morning.  Patients  in  a  state  of  excitement  may 
sleep  during  the  first  hours  of  the  night,  but  seldom  all 
night;  and  even  should  one  have  the  capacity  to  do 
so,  his  companions  in  durance  would  wake  him  with  a 
shout  or  a  song  or  a  curse  or  the  kicking  of  a  door. 
A  noisy  and  chaotic  medley  frequently  continued  with- 
out interruption  for  hours  at  a  time.  Noise,  unearthly 
noise,  was  the  poetic  license  allowed  the  occupants  of 
these  cells.  I  spent  several  days  and  nights  in  one  or 
another  of  them,  and  I  question  whether  I  averaged 
more  than  two  or  three  hours'  sleep  a  night  during  that 
time.  Seldom  did  the  regular  attendants  pay  any  at- 
tention to  the  noise,  though  even  they  must  at  times  have 
been  disturbed  by  it.  In  fact  the  only  person  likely  to 
attempt  to  stop  it  was  the  night  watch,  who,  when  he 
did  enter  a  cell  for  that  purpose,  almost  invariably 
kicked  or  choked  the  noisy  patient  into  a  state  of  tem- 
porary quiet.     I  noted  this  and  scented  trouble. 

Drawing  and  writing  materials  having  been  again 
taken  from  me,  I  cast  about  for  some  new  occupation. 


154  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  found  one  in  the  problem  of  warmth.  Though  I 
gave  repeated  expression  to  the  benumbed  messages 
of  my  tortured  nerves,  the  doctor  refused  to  return  my 
clothes.  For  a  semblance  of  warmth  I  was  forced  to 
depend  upon  ordinary  undergarments  and  an  extra- 
ordinary imagination.  The  heavy  felt  druggets  were 
about  as  plastic  as  blotting  paper  and  I  derived  little 
comfort  from  them  until  I  hit  upon  the  idea  of  rending 
them  into  strips.  These  strips  I  would  weave  into  a 
crude  Rip  Van  Winkle  kind  of  suit;  and  so  intricate  was 
the  warp  and  woof  that  on  several  occasions  an  attend- 
ant had  to  cut  me  out  of  these  sartorial  improvisations. 
At  first,  until  I  acquired  the  destructive  knack,  the 
tearing  of  one  drugget  into  strips  was  a  task  of  four 
or  five  hours.  But  in  time  I  became  so  proficient 
that  I  could  completely  destroy  more  than  one  of  these 
six-by-eight-foot  druggets  in  a  single  night.  During  the 
following  weeks  of  my  close  confinement  I  destroyed 
at  least  twenty  of  them,  each  worth,  as  I  found  out 
later,  about  four  dollars;  and  I  confess  I  found  a  peculiar 
satisfaction  in  the  destruction  of  property  belonging  to  a 
State  which  had  deprived  me  of  all  my  effects  except 
underclothes.  But  my  destructiveness  was  due  to  a 
variety  of  causes.  It  was  occasioned  primarily  by  a 
"pressure  of  activity,"  for  which  the  tearing  of  druggets 
served  as  a  vent.  I  was  in  a  state  of  mind  aptly 
described  in  a  letter  written  during  my  first  month  of 
elation,  in  which  I  said,  "I'm  as  busy  as  a  nest  of 
ants." 

Though  the  habit  of  tearing  druggets  was  the  out- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  155 

growth  of  an  abnormal  impulse,  the  habit  itself  lasted 
longer  than  it  could  have  done  had  I  not,  for  so  long  a 
time,  been  deprived  of  suitable  clothes  and  been  he]d 
a  prisoner  in  cold  cells.  But  another  motive  soon 
asserted,  itself.  Being  deprived  of  all  the  luxuries  of 
life  and  most  of  the  necessities,  my  mother  wit,  always 
conspiring  with  a  wild  imagination  for  something  to 
occupy  my  time,  led  me  at  last  to  invade  the  field  of 
invention.  With  appropriate  contrariety,  an  unfamiliar 
and  hitherto  almost  detested  line  of  investigation  now 
attracted  me.  Abstruse  mathematical  problems  which 
had  defied  solution  for  centuries  began  to  appear  easy. 
To  defy  the  State  and  its  puny  representatives  had  be- 
come mere  child's  play.  So  I  forthwith  decided  to 
overcome  no  less  a  force  than  gravity  itself. 

My  conquering  imagination  soon  tricked  me  into 
believing  that  I  could  lift  myself  by  my  boot-straps — 
or  rather  that  I  could  do  so  when  my  laboratory  should 
contain  footgear  that  lent  itself  to  the  experiment.  But 
what  of  the  strips  of  felt  torn  from  the  druggets?  Why, 
these  I  used  as  the  straps  of  my  missing  boots;  and 
having  no  boots  to  stand  in,  I  used  my  bed  as  boots. 
I  reasoned  that  for  my  scientific  purpose  a  man  in  bed 
was  as  favorably  situated  as  a  man  in  boots.  There- 
fore, attaching  a  sufficient  number  of  my  felt  strips  to 
the  head  and  foot  of  the  bed  (which  happened  not  to 
be  screwed  to  the  floor),  and,  in  turn,  attaching  the  free 
ends  to  the  transom  and  the  window  guard,  I  found 
the  problem  very  simple.  For  I  next  joined  these 
cloth  cables  in  such  manner  that  by  pulling  downward 


156  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  effected  a  readjustment  of  stress  and  strain,  and  my 
bed,  with  me  in  it,  was  soon  dangling  in  space.  My 
sensations  at  this  momentous  instant  must  have  been 
much  like  those  which  thrilled  Newton  when  he  solved 
one  of  the  riddles  of  the  universe.  Indeed,  they  must 
have  been  more  intense,  for  Newton,  knowing,  had  his 
doubts;  I,  not  knowing,  had  no  doubts  at  all.  So 
epoch-making  did  this  discovery  appear  to  me  that  I 
noted  the  exact  position  of  the  bed  so  that  a  wondering 
posterity  might  ever  afterward  view  and  revere  the 
exact  spot  on  the  earth's  surface  whence  one  of  man's 
greatest  thoughts  had  winged  its  way  to  immortality. 

For  weeks  I  believed  I  had  uncovered  a  mechanical 
principle  which  would  enable  man  to  defy  gravity.  And 
I  talked  freely  and  confidently  about  it.  That  is,  I 
proclaimed  the  impending  results.  The  intermediate 
steps  in  the  solution  of  my  problem  I  ignored,  for  good 
reasons.  A  blind  man  may  harness  a  horse.  So  long 
as  the  horse  is  harnessed,  one  need  not  know  the  office 
of  each  strap  and  buckle.  Gravity  was  harnessed — ■ 
that  was  all.  Meanwhile  I  felt  sure  that  another 
sublime  moment  of  inspiration  would  intervene  and 
clear  the  atmosphere,  thus  rendering  flight  of  the  body 
as  easy  as  a  flight  of  imagination. 


XX 


While  my  inventive  operations  were  in  progress,  I  was 
charing  under  the  unjust  and  certainly  unscientific 
treatment  to  which  I  was  being  subjected.  In  spite  of 
my  close  confinement  in  vile  cells,  for  a  period  of  over 
three  weeks  I  was  denied  a  bath.  I  do  not  regret  this 
deprivation,  for  the  attendants,  who  at  the  beginning  were 
unfriendly,  might  have  forced  me  to  bathe  in  water  which 
had  first  served  for  several  other  patients.  Though  such 
an  unsanitary  and  disgusting  practice  was  contrary  to 
rules,  it  was  often  indulged  in  by  the^  lazy  brutes  who 
controlled  the  ward. 

I  continued  to  object  to  the  inadequate  portions  of 
food  served  me.  On  Thanksgiving  Day  (for  I  had  not 
succeeded  in  escaping  and  joining  in  the  celebration 
at  home)  an  attendant,  in  the  unaccustomed  r61e  of  a 
ministering  angel,  brought  me  the  usual  turkey  and 
cranberry  dinner  which,  on  two  days  a  year,  is  provided 
by  an  intermittently  generous  State.  Turkey  being  the 
rara  avis  of  the  imprisoned,  it  was  but  natural  that  I  should 
desire  to  gratify  a  palate  long  insulted.  I  wished  not  only 
to  satisfy  my  appetite,  but  to  impress  indelibly  a  memory 
which  for  months  had  not  responded  to  so  agreeable  a 
stimulus.  While  lingering  over  the  delights  of  this 
experience  I  forgot  all  about  the  ministering  angel.  But 
not  for  long.     He  soon  returned.     Observing  that  I  had 

i57 


158  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

scarcely  touched  my  feast,  he  said,  "If  you  don't  eat 
that  dinner  in  a  hurry,  I'll  take  it  from  you." 

"I  don't  see  what  difference  it  makes  to  you  whether 
I  eat  it  in  a  hurry  or  take  my  time  about  it,"  I  said. 
"It's  the  best  I've  had  in  many  a  day,  and  I  have  a  right 
to  get  as  much  pleasure  out  of  it  as  I  can." 

"We'll  see  about  that,"  he  replied,  and,  snatching  it 
away,  he  stalked  out  of  the  room,  leaving  me  to  satisfy 
my  hunger  on  the  memory  of  vanished  luxuries.  Thus 
did  a  feast  become  a  fast. 

Under  this  treatment  I  soon  learned  to  be  more  noisy 
than  my  neighbors.  I  was  never  without  a  certain 
humor  in  contemplating  not  only  my  surroundings,  but 
myself;  and  the  demonstrations  in  which  I  began  to 
indulge  were  partly  in  fun  and  partly  by  way  of  protest. 
In  these  outbursts  I  was  assisted,  and  at  times  inspired, 
by  a  young  man  in  the  room  next  mine.  He  was  about 
my  own  age  and  was  enjoying  the  same  phase  of  exuber- 
ance as  myself.  We  talked  and  sang  at  all  hours  of  the 
night.  At  the  time  we  believed  that  the  other  patients 
enjoyed  the  spice  which  we  added  to  the  restricted  variety 
of  their  lives,  but  later  I  learned  that  a  majority  of 
them  looked  upon  us  as  the  worst  of  nuisances. 

We  gave  the  doctors  and  attendants  no  rest — at  least 
not  intentionally.  Whenever  the  assistant  physician 
appeared,  we  upbraided  him  for  the  neglect  which  was 
then  our  portion.  At  one  time  or  another  we  were 
banished  to  the  Bull  Pen  for  these  indiscretions.  And 
had  there  been  a  viler  place  of  confinement  still,  our 
performances  in  the  Bull  Pen  undoubtedly  would  have 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  159 

brought  us  to  it.  At  last  the  doctor  hit  upon  the 
expedient  of  transferring  me  to  a  room  more  remote 
from  my  inspiring,  and,  I  may  say,  conspiring,  com- 
panion. Talking  to  each  other  ceased  to  be  the  easy 
pastime  it  had  been;  so  we  gradually  lapsed  into  a 
comparative  silence  which  must  have  proved  a 
boon  to  our  ward-mates.  The  megaphonic  Bull  Pen, 
however,  continued  with  irregularity,  but  annoying  cer- 
tainty to  furnish  its  quota  of  noise. 

On  several  occasions  I  concocted  plans  to  escape, 
and  not  only  that,  but  also  to  liberate  others.  That  I 
did  not  make  the  attempt  was  the  fault — or  merit,  per- 
haps— of  a  certain  night  watch,  whose  timidity,  rather 
than  sagacity,  impelled  him  to  refuse  to  unlock  my  door 
early  one  morning,  although  I  gave  him  a  plausible 
reason  for  the  request.  This  night  watch,  I  learned 
later,  admitted  that  he  feared  to  encounter  me  single- 
handed.  And  on  this  particular  occasion  well  might 
he,  for,  during  the  night,  I  had  woven  a  spider-web  net 
in  which  I  intended  to  enmesh  him.  Had  I  succeeded, 
there  would  have  been  a  lively  hour  for  him  in  the  violent 
ward — had  I  failed,  there  would  have  been  a  lively  hour 
for  me.  There  were  several  comparatively  sane  patients 
(especially  my  elated  neighbor)  whose  willing  assistance 
I  could  have  secured.  Then  the  regular  attendants  could 
have  been  held  prisoners  in  their  own  room,  if,  indeed, 
we  had  not  in  turn  overpowered  them  and  transferred 
them  to  the  Bull  Pen,  where  the  several  victims  of 
their  abuse  might  have  given  them  a  deserved  dose 
of  their  own  medicine.      This  scheme  of  mine  was  a 


160  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND   ITSELF 

prank  rather  than  a  plot.  I  had  an  inordinate  desire 
to  prove  that  one  could  escape  if  he  had  a  mind  to  do  so. 
Later  I  boasted  to  the  assistant  physician  of  my  unsuc- 
cessful attempt.  This  boast  he  evidently  tucked  away 
in  his  memory. 

My  punishment  for  harmless  antics  of  this  sort  was 
prompt  in  coming.  The  attendants  seemed  to  think 
their  whole  duty  to  their  closely  confined  charges  con- 
sisted in  delivering  three  meals  a  day.  Between  meals 
he  was  a  rash  patient  who  interfered  with  their  leisure. 
Now  one  of  my  greatest  crosses  was  their  continued 
refusal  to  give  me  a  drink  when  I  asked  for  it.  Except 
at  meal  time,  or  on  those  rare  occasions  when  I  was 
permitted  to  go  to  the  wash  room,  I  had  to  get  along 
as  best  I  might  with  no  water  to  drink,  and  that 
too  at  a  time  when  I  was  in  a  fever  of  excitement. 
My  polite  requests  were  ignored;  impolite  demands 
were  answered  with  threats  and  curses.  And  this  war 
of  requests,  demands,  threats,  and  curses  continued 
until  the  night  of  the  fourth  day  of  my  banishment. 
Then  the  attendants  made  good  their  threats  of  assault. 
That  they  had  been  trying  to  goad  me  into  a  fighting 
mood  I  well  knew,  and  often  accused  them  of  their 
mean  purpose.  They  brazenly  admitted  that  they 
were  simply  waiting  for  a  chance  to  "slug"  me,  and 
promised  to  punish  me  well  as  soon  as  I  should  give 
them  a  slight  excuse  for  doing  so. 

On  the  night  of  November  25th,  1902,  the  head  attend- 
ant and  one  of  his  assistants  passed  my  door.  They 
were  returning  from  one  of  the  dances  which,  at  intervals 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  161 

during  the  winter,  the  management  provides  for  the 
nurses  and  attendants.  While  they  were  within  hear- 
ing, I  asked  for  a  drink  of  water.  It  was  a  carefully 
worded  request.  But  they  were  in  a  hurry  to  get  to  bed, 
and  refused  me  with  curses.     Then  I  replied  in  kind. 

"If   I    come  there   I'll  kill  you,"  one  of  them  said. 

"Well,  you  won't  get  in  if  I  can  help  it,"  I  replied,  as 
I  braced  my  iron  bedstead  against  the  door. 

My  defiance  and  defences  gave  the  attendants  the 
excuse  for  which  they  had  said  they  were  waiting;  and 
my  success  in  keeping  them  out  for  two  or  three  minutes 
only  served  to  enrage  them.  By  the  time  they  had 
gained  entrance  they  had  become  furies.  One  was  a 
young  man  of  twenty-seven.  Physically  he  was  a  fine 
specimen  of  manhood ;  morally  he  was  deficient — 
thanks  to  the  dehumanizing  effect  of  several  years 
in  the  employ  of  different  institutions  whose  officials 
countenanced  improper  methods  of  care  and  treatment. 
It  was  he  who  now  attacked  me  in  the  dark  of  my  prison 
room.  The  head  attendant  stood  by,  holding  a  lantern 
which  shed  a  dim  light. 

The  door  once  open,  I  offered  no  further  resistance. 
First  I  was  knocked  down.  Then  for  several  minutes 
I  was  kicked  about  the  room — struck,  kneed  and  choked. 
My  assailant  even  attempted  to  grind  his  heel  into  my 
cheek.  In  this  he  failed,  for  I  was  there  protected  by  a 
heavy  beard  which  I  wore  at  that  time.  But  my  shins, 
elbows,  and  back  were  cut  by  his  heavy  shoes;  and  had 
I  not  instinctively  drawn  up  my  knees  to  my  elbows  for 
the  protection  of  my  body,  I  might  have  been  seriously, 


162  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

perhaps  fatally,  injured.  As  it  was,  I  was  severely  cut 
and  bruised.  When  my  strength  was  nearly  gone,  I 
feigned  unconsciousness.  This  ruse  alone  saved  me  from 
further  punishment,  for  usually  a  premeditated  assault 
is  not  ended  until  the  patient  is  mute  and  helpless. 
When  they  had  accomplished  their  purpose,  they  left 
me  huddled  in  a  corner  to  wear  out  the  night  as  best  I 
might — to  live  or  die  for  all  they  cared. 

Strange  as  it  may  seem,  I  slept  well.  But  not  at  once. 
Within  five  minutes  I  was  busily  engaged  writing  an 
account  of  the  assault.  A  trained  war  correspondent 
could  not  have  pulled  himself  together  in  less  time.  As 
usual  I  had  recourse  to  my  bit  of  contraband  lead  pencil, 
this  time  a  pencil  which  had  been  smuggled  to  me  the 
very  first  day  of  my  confinement  in  the  Bull  Pen  by  a 
sympathetic  fellow-patient.  When  he  had  pushed 
under  my  cell  door  that  little  implement  of  war,  it  had 
loomed  as  large  in  my  mind  as  a  battering-ram.  Paper 
I  had  none;  but  I  had  previously  found  walls  to  be  a 
fair  substitute.  I  therefore  now  selected  and  wrote 
upon  a  rectangular  spot — about  three  feet  by  two  — 
which  marked  the  reflection  of  a  light  in  the  corridor 
just  outside  my  transom. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  assistant  physician 
appeared,  he  was  accompanied  as  usual  by  the  guilty 
head  attendant  who,  on  the  previous  night,  had  held 
the  lantern. 

"Doctor,"  I  said,  "I  have  something  to  tell  you," — 
and  I  glanced  significantly  at  the  attendant.  "Last 
night  I  had  a  most  unusual  experience.      I  have  had 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  163 

many  imaginary  experiences  during  the  past  two  years 
and  a  half,  and  it  may  be  that  last  night's  was  not  real. 
Perhaps  the  whole  thing  was  phantasmagoric — like  what 
I  used  to  see  during  the  first  months  of  my  illness. 
Whether  it  was  so  or  not  I  shall  leave  you  to  judge.  It 
just  happens  to  be  my  impression  that  I  was  brutally 
assaulted  last  night.  If  it  was  a  dream,  it  is  the  first 
thing  of  the  kind  that  ever  left  visible  evidence  on  my 
body." 

With  that  I  uncovered  to  the  doctor  a  score  of  bruises 
and  lacerations.  I  knew  these  would  be  more  impres- 
sive than  any  words  of  mine.  The  doctor  put  on  a 
knowing  look,  but  said  nothing  and  soon  left  the  room. 
His  guilty  subordinate  tried  to  appear  unconcerned,  and 
I  really  believe  he  thought  me  not  absolutely  sure  of  the 
events  of  the  previous  night,  or  at  least  unaware  of 
his  share  in  them. 


XXI 


Neither  of  the  attendants  involved  in  the  assault 
upon  me  was  discharged.  This  fact  made  me  more 
eager  to  gain  wider  knowledge  of  conditions.  The 
self-control  which  had  enabled  me  to  suspend  speech 
for  a  whole  day  now  stood  me  in  good  stead.  It  en- 
abled me  to  avert  much  suffering  that  would  have 
been  my  portion  had  I  been  like  the  majority  of  my 
ward-mates.  Time  and  again  I  surrendered  when  an 
attendant  was  about  to  chastise  me.  But  at  least  a 
score  of  patients  in  the  ward  were  not  so  well  equipped 
mentally,  and  these  were  viciously  assaulted  again  and 
again  by  the  very  men  who  had  so  thoroughly  initiated 
me  into  the  mysteries  of  their  black  art. 

I  soon  observed  that  the  only  patients  who  were  not 
likely  to  be  subjected  to  abuse  were  the  very  ones  least 
in  need  of  care  and  treatment.  The  violent,  noisy, 
and  troublesome  patient  was  abused  because  he  was 
violent,  noisy,  and  troublesome.  The  patient  too  weak, 
physically  or  mentally,  to  attend  to  his  own  wants  was 
frequently  abused  because  of  that  very  helplessness 
which  made  it  necessary  for  the  attendants  to  wait 
upon  him. 

Usually  a  restless  or  troublesome  patient  placed 
in  the  violent  ward  was  assaulted  the  very  first  day. 
This  procedure  seemed  to  be  a  part  of  the   established 

164 


A   MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  165 

code  of  dishonor.  The  attendants  imagined  that  the 
best  way  to  gain  control  of  a  patient  was  to  cow  him 
from  the  first.  In  fact,  these  fellows  —  nearly  all 
of  them  ignorant  and  untrained — seemed  to  believe  that 
"violent  cases"  could  not  be  handled  in  any  other  way. 
One  attendant,  on  the  very  day  he  had  been  discharged  for 
choking  a  patient  into  an  insensibility  so  profound  that 
it  had  been  necessary  to  call  a  physician  to  restore  him, 
said  to  me,  "  They  are  getting  pretty  damned  strict 
these  days,  discharging  a  man  simply  for  choking  a 
patient."  This  illustrates  the  attitude  of  many  at- 
tendants. On  the  other  hand,  that  the  discharged 
employe  soon  secured  a  position  in  a  similar  institution 
not  twenty  miles  distant  illustrates  the  attitude  of  some 
hospital  managements. 

I  recall  the  advent  of  a  new  attendant — a  young 
man  studying  to  become  a  physician.  At  first  he  seemed 
inclined  to  treat  patients  kindly,  but  he  soon  fell  into 
brutal  ways.  His  change  of  heart  was  due  partly  to 
the  brutalizing  environment,  but  more  directly  to  the 
attitude  of  the  three  hardened  attendants  who  mistook 
his  consideration  for  cowardice  and  taunted  him  for  it. 
Just  to  prove  his  mettle  he  began  to  assault  patients, 
and  one  day  knocked  me  down  simply  for  refusing  to 
stop  my  prattle  at  his  command.  That  the  environ- 
ment in  some  institutions  is  brutalizing,  was  strikingly 
shown  in  the  testimony  of  an  attendant  at  a  pub- 
lic investigation  in  Kentucky,  who  said,  "  When  I 
came  here,  if  anyone  had  told  me  I  would  be  guilty 
of    striking   patients  I   would  have   called  him    crazy 


1 66  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

himself,  but  now  I  take  delight  in  punching  hell  out 
of  them." 

I  found  also  that  an  unnecessary  and  continued  lack 
of  out-door  exercise  tended  to  multiply  deeds  of  violence. 
Patients  were  supposed  to  be  taken  for  a  walk  at  least 
once  a  day,  and  twice,  when  the  weather  permitted. 
Yet  those  in  the  violent  ward  (and  it  is  they  who 
most  need  the  exercise)  usually  got  out  of  doors  only 
when  the  attendants  saw  fit  to  take  them.  For 
weeks  a  ward-mate — a  man  sane  enough  to  enjoy  free- 
dom, had  he  had  a  home  to  go  to — kept  a  record  of  the 
number  of  our  walks.  It  showed  that  we  averaged 
not  more  than  one  or  two  a  week  for  a  period  of  two 
months.  This,  too,  in  the  face  of  many  pleasant  days, 
which  made  the  close  confinement  doubly  irksome. 
The  lazy  fellows  on  whose  leisure  we  waited  preferred 
to  remain  in  the  ward,  playing  cards,  smoking,  and  telling 
their  kind  of  stories.  The  attendants  needed  regular 
exercise  quite  as  much  as  the  patients  and  when  they 
failed  to  employ  their  energy  in  this  healthful  way,  they 
were  likely  to  use  it  at  the  expense  of  the  bodily  com- 
fort of  their  helpless  charges. 

If  lack  of  exercise  produced  a  need  of  discipline,  each 
disciplinary  move,  on  the  other  hand,  served  only  to  in- 
flame us  the  more.  Some  wild  animals  can  be  clubbed 
into  a  semblance  of  obedience,  yet  it  is  a  treacherous 
obedience  at  best,  and  justly  so.  And  that  is  the  only 
kind  of  obedience  into  which  a  man  can  be  clubbed.  To 
imagine  otherwise  of  a  human  being,  sane  or  insane,  is 
the  very  essence  of  insanity  itself.     A  temporary  leisure 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  167 

may  be  won  for  the  aggressor,  but  in  the  long  run  he 
will  be  put  to  greater  inconvenience  than  he  would  be 
by  a  more  humane  method.  It  was  repression  and 
wilful  frustration  of  reasonable  desires  which  kept  me 
a  seeming  maniac  and  made  seeming  maniacs  of  others. 
Whenever  I  was  released  from  lock  and  key  and  per- 
mitted to  mingle  with  the  so-called  violent  patients,  I 
was  surprised  to  find  that  comparatively  few  were  by 
nature  troublesome  or  noisy.  A  patient,  calm  in  mind 
and  passive  in  behavior  three  hundred  and  sixty  days 
in  the  year,  may,  on  one  of  the  remaining  days,  commit 
some  slight  transgression,  or,  more  likely,  be  goaded 
into  one  by  an  attendant  or  needlessly  led  into  one  by 
a  tactless  physician.  His  indiscretion  may  consist  merely 
in  an  unmannerly  announcement  to  the  doctor  of  how 
lightly  the  latter  is  regarded  by  the  patient.  At  once 
he  is  banished  to  the  violent  ward,  there  to  remain  for 
weeks,  perhaps  indefinitely. 


XXII 

Like  fires  and  railroad  disasters,  assaults  seemed  to 
come  in  groups.  Days  would  pass  without  a  single  out- 
break. Then  would  come  a  veritable  carnival  of  abuse 
— due  almost  invariably  to  the  attendants'  state  of  mind, 
not  to  an  unwonted  aggressiveness  on  the  part  of  the 
patients.  I  can  recall  as  especially  noteworthy  several 
instances  of  atrocious  abuse.  Five  patients  were  chronic 
victims.  Three  of  them,  peculiarly  irresponsible,  suf- 
fered with  especial  regularity,  scarcely  a  day  passing 
without  bringing  to  them  its  quota  of  punishment.  One 
of  these,  almost  an  idiot,  and  quite  too  inarticulate  to  tell 
a  convincing  story  even  under  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions, became  so  cowed  that,  whenever  an  attendant 
passed,  he  would  circle  his  oppressor  as  a  whipped  cur 
circles  a  cruel  master.  If  this  avoidance  became  too 
marked,  the  attendant  would  then  and  there  chastise 
him  for  the  implied,  but  unconscious  insult. 

There  was  a  young  man,  occupying  a  cell  next  to  mine 
in  the  Bull  Pen,  who  was  so  far  out  of  his  mind  as  to  be 
absolutely  irresponsible.  His  offence  was  that  he  could 
not  comprehend  and  obey.  Day  after  day  I  could  hear 
the  blows  and  kicks  as  they  fell  upon  his  body,  and  his 
incoherent  cries  for  mercy  were  as  painful  to  hear  as 
they  are  impossible  to  forget.   That  he  survived  is  sur- 

168 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  169 

prising.  What  wonder  that  this  man,  who  was  "  vio- 
lent," or  who  was  made  violent,  would  not  permit  the 
attendants  to  dress  him!  But  he  had  a  half-witted 
friend,  a  ward-mate,  who  could  coax  him  into  his  clothes 
when  his  oppressors  found  him  most  intractable. 

Of  all  the  patients  known  to  me,  the  one  who  was 
assaulted  with  the  greatest  frequency  was  an  incoherent 
and  irresponsible  man  of  sixty  years.  This  patient  was 
restless  and  forever  talking  or  shouting,  as  any  man 
might  if  oppressed  by  such  delusions  as  his.  He  was 
profoundly  convinced  that  one  of  the  patients  had 
stolen  his  stomach — an  idea  inspired  perhaps  by  the 
remarkable  corpulency  of  the  person  he  accused.  His  loss 
he  would  wofully  voice  even  while  eating.  Of  course, 
argument  to  the  contrary  had  no  effect;  and  his  monot- 
onous recital  of  his  imaginary  troubles  made  him  unpop- 
ular with  those  whose  business  it  was  to  care  for  him. 
They  showed  him  no  mercy.  Each  day — including  the 
hours  of  the  night,  when  the  night  watch  took  a  hand 
— he  was  belabored  with  fists,  broom  handles,  and  fre- 
quently with  the  heavy  bunch  of  keys  which  attendants 
usually  carry  on  a  long  chain.  He  was  also  kicked  and 
choked,  and  his  suffering  was  aggravated  by  his  almost 
continuous  confinement  in  the  Bull  Pen.  An  exception 
to  the  general  rule  (for  such  continued  abuse  often 
causes  death),  this  man  lived  a  long  time — five  years, 
as  I  learned  later. 

Another  victim,  forty-five  years  of  age,  was  one  who 
had  formerly  been  a  successful  man  of  affairs.  His  was 
a  forceful  personality,  and  the  traits  of  his  sane  days 


170  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

influenced  his  conduct  when  he  broke  down  mentally. 
He  was  in  the  expansive  phase  of  paresis,  a  phase  dis- 
tinguished by  an  exaggerated  sense  of  well-being,  and  by 
delusions  of  grandeur  which  are  symptoms  of  this  form  as 
well  as  of  several  other  forms  of  mental  disease.  Paresis, 
as  everyone  knows,  is  considered  incurable  and  victims 
of  it  seldom  live  more  than  three  or  four  years.  In  this 
instance,  instead  of  trying  to  make  the  patient's  last 
days  comfortable,  the  attendants  subjected  him  to  a 
course  of  treatment  severe  enough  to  have  sent  even  a 
sound  man  to  an  early  grave.  I  endured  privations  and 
severe  abuse  for  one  month  at  the  State  Hospital.  This 
man  suffered  in  all  ways  worse  treatment  for  many 
months. 

I  became  well  acquainted  with  two  jovial  and  witty 
Irishmen.  They  were  common  laborers.  One  was  a 
hodcarrier,  and  a  strapping  fellow.  When  he  arrived 
at  the  institution,  he  was  at  once  placed  in  the  violent 
ward,  though  his  "violence"  consisted  of  nothing  more 
than  an  annoying  sort  of  irresponsibility.  He  irritated 
the  attendants  by  persistently  doing  certain  trivial  things 
after  they  had  been  forbidden.  The  attendants  made  no 
allowance  for  his  condition  of  mind.  His  repetition  of  a 
forbidden  act  was  interpreted  as  deliberate  disobedience. 
He  was  physically  powerful,  and  they  determined  to  cow 
him.  Of  the  master  assault  by  which  they  attempted  to 
do  this  I  was  not  an  eyewitness.  But  I  was  an  ear 
witness.  It  was  committed  behind  a  closed  door;  and 
I  heard  the  dull  thuds  of  the  blows,  and  I  heard  the  cries 
for  mercy  until  there  was   no  breath  left  in  the  man 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


171 


with  which  he  could  beg  even  for  his  life.  For  days, 
that  wrecked  Hercules  dragged  himself  about  the  ward 
moaning  pitifully.  He  complained  of  pain  in  his  side 
and  had  difficulty  in  breathing,  which  would  seem  to 
indicate  that  some  of  his  ribs  had  been  fractured.  This 
man  was  often  punished,  frequently  for  complaining  of 
the  torture  already  inflicted.  But  later,  when  he  began 
to  return  to  the  normal,  his  good-humor  and  native  wit 
won  for  him  an  increasing  degree  of  good  treatment. 

The  other  patient's  arch  offence — a  symptom  of  his 
disease — was  that  he  gabbled  incessantly.  He  could  no 
more  stop  talking  than  he  could  right  his  reason  on  com- 
mand. Yet  his  failure  to  become  silent  at  a  word  was 
the  signal  for  punishment.  On  one  occasion  an  attend- 
ant ordered  him  to  stop  talking  and  take  a  seat  at  the 
further  end  of  the  corridor,  about  forty  feet  distant. 
He  was  doing  his  best  to  obey,  even  running  to  keep 
ahead  of  the  attendant  at  his  heels.  As  they  passed 
the  spot  where  I  was  sitting,  the  attendant  felled  him 
with  a  blow  behind  the  ear;  and,  in  falling,  the  patient's 
head  barely  missed  the  wall. 

Addressing  me,  the  attendant  said,  "Did  you  see  that?" 
"Yes,"  I  replied,  "and  I'll  not  forget  it." 
"Be  sure  to  report  it  to  the  doctor,"  he  said,  which 
remark  showed  his  contempt,  not  only  for  me,  but  for 
those  in  authority. 

The  man  who  had  so  terribly  beaten  me  was  par- 
ticularly flagrant  in  ignoring  the  claims  of  age.  On 
more  than  one  occasion  he  viciously  attacked  a  man  of 
over  fifty,  who,  however,  seemed  much  older.     He  was 


172  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  Yankee  sailing-master,  who  in  his  prime  could  have 
thrashed  his  tormentor  with  ease.  But  now  he  was 
helpless  and  could  only  submit.  However,  he  was  not 
utterly  abandoned  by  his  old  world.  His  wife  called 
often  to  see  him;  and,  because  of  his  condition,  she  was 
permitted  to  visit  him  in  his  room.  Once  she  arrived  a 
few  hours  after  he  had  been  cruelly  beaten.  Naturally 
she  asked  the  attendants  how  he  had  come  by  the  hurts 
— the  blackened  eye  and  bruised  head.  True  to  the 
code,  they  lied.  The  good  wife,  perhaps  herself  a 
Yankee,  was  not  thus  to  be  fooled;  and  her  growing 
belief  that  her  husband  had  been  assaulted  was  confirmed 
by  a  sight  she  saw  before  her  visit  was  ended.  Another 
patient,  a  foreigner  who  was  a  target  for  abuse,  was 
knocked  flat  two  or  three  times  as  he  was  roughly  forced 
along  the  corridor.  I  saw  this  little  affair  and  I  saw  that 
the  good  wife  saw  it.  The  next  day  she  called  again  and 
took  her  husband  home.  The  result  was  that  after  a 
few  (probably  sleepless)  nights,  she  had  to  return  him  to 
the  hospital  and  trust  to  God  rather  than  the  State  to 
protect  him. 

Another  victim  was  a  man  sixty  years  of  age.  H& 
was  quite  inoffensive,  and  no  patient  in  the  ward  seemed 
to  attend  more  strictly  to  his  own  business.  Shortly 
after  my  transfer  from  the  violent  ward  this  man 
was  so  viciously  attacked  that  his  arm  was  broken. 
The  attendant  (the  man  who  had  so  viciously  assaulted 
me)  was  summarily  discharged.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, the  relief  afforded  the  insane  was  slight  and  brief, 
for  this  same  brute,  like  another  whom  I  have  mentioned, 


A   MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  1 73 

soon  secured  a  position  in  another  institution — this  one, 
however,  a  thousand  miles  distant. 

Death  by  violence  in  a  violent  ward  is  after  all  not  an 
unnatural  death — for  a  violent  ward.  The  patient  of 
whom  I  am  about  to  speak  was  also  an  old  man — over 
sixty.  Both  physically  and  mentally  he  was  a  wreck. 
On  being  brought  to  the  institution  he  was  at  once 
placed  in  a  cell  in  the  Bull  Pen,  probably  because  of  his 
previous  history  for  violence  while  at  his  own  home. 
But  his  violence  (if  it  ever  existed)  had  already  spent 
itself,  and  had  come  to  be  nothing  more  than  an  utter 
incapacity  to  obey.  His  offence  was  that  he  was  too 
weak  to  attend  to  his  common  wants.  The  day 
after  his  arrival,  shortly  before  noon,  he  lay  stark 
naked  and  helpless  upon  the  bed  in  his  cell.  This  I 
know,  for  I  went  to  investigate  immediately  after  a 
ward-mate  had  informed  me  of  the  vicious  way  in  which 
the  head  attendant  had  assaulted  the  sick  man.  My 
informant  was  a  man  whose  word  regarding  an  incident  of 
this  character  I  would  take  as  readily  as  that  of  any  man 
I  know.  He  came  to  me,  knowing  that  I  had  taken 
upon  myself  the  duty  of  reporting  such  abominations. 
My  informant  feared  to  take  the  initiative,  for,  like 
many  other  patients  who  believe  themselves  doomed  to 
continued  confinement,  he  feared  to  invite  abuse  at  the 
hands  of  vengeful  attendants.  I  therefore  promised 
him  that  I  would  report  the  case  as  soon  as  I  had  an 
opportunity. 

All  day  long  this  victim  of  an  attendant's  unmanly 
passion  lay  in  his  cell  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  semi-con- 


174  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

scious  condition.  I  took  particular  pains  to  observe 
his  condition,  for  I  felt  that  the  assault  of  the  morning 
might  result  in  death.  That  night,  after  the  doctor's 
regular  tour  of  inspection,  the  patient  in  question  was 
transferred  to  a  room  next  my  own.  The  mode  of 
transfer  impressed  itself  upon  my  memory.  Two 
attendants — one  of  them  being  he  who  had  so  brutally 
beaten  the  patient — placed  the  man  in  a  sheet  and,  each 
taking  an  end,  carried  the  hammocklike  contrivance, 
with  its  inert  contents,  to  what  proved  to  be  its  last 
resting-place  above  ground.  The  bearers  seemed  as 
much  concerned  about  their  burden  as  one  might  be 
about  a  dead   dog,  weighted  and  ready  for  the  river. 

That  night  the  patient  died.  Whether  he  was  mur- 
dered none  can  ever  know.  But  it  is  my  honest  opinion 
that  he  was.  Though  he  might  never  have  recovered, 
it  is  plain  that  he  would  have  lived  days,  perhaps  months. 
And  had  he  been  humanely,  nay,  scientifically,  treated, 
who  can  say  that  he  might  not  have  been  restored  to 
health  and  home? 

The  young  man  who  had  been  my  companion  in  mis- 
chief in  the  violent  ward  was  also  terribly  abused.  I 
am  sure  I  do  not  exaggerate  when  I  say  that  on  ten  oc- 
casions, within  a  period  of  two  months,  this  man  was 
cruelly  assaulted,  and  I  do  not  know  how  many  times 
he  suffered  assaults  of  less  severity.  After  one  of  these 
chastisements,  I  asked  him  why  he  persisted  in  his  petty 
transgressions  when  he  knew  that  he  thereby  invited 
such  body-racking  abuse. 

"Oh,"  he  said,  laconically,  "I  need  the  exercise." 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  175 

To  my  mind,  the  man  who,  with  such  gracious 
humor,  could  refer  to  what  was  in  reality  torture 
deserved  to  live  a  century.  But  an  unkind  fate  decreed 
that  he  should  die  young.  Ten  months  after  his  com- 
mitment to  the  State  Hospital  he  was  discharged  as 
improved — but  not  cured.  This  was  not  an  unusual  pro- 
cedure; nor  was  it  in  his  case  apparently  an  unwise  one, 
for  he  seemed  fit  for  freedom.  During  the  first  month 
of  regained  liberty,  he  hanged  himself.  He  left  no 
message  of  excuse.  In  my  opinion,  none  was  necessary. 
For  aught  any  man  knows,  the  memories  of  the  abuse, 
torture,  and  injustice  which  were  so  long  his  portion 
may  have  proved  to  be  the  last  straw  which  overbal- 
anced the  desire  to  live. 

Patients  with  less  stamina  than  mine  often  sub- 
mitted with  meekness;  and  none  so  aroused  my  sym- 
pathy as  those  whose  submission  was  due  to  the  con- 
sciousness that  they  had  no  relatives  or  friends  to  sup- 
port them  in  a  fight  for  their  rights.  On  behalf  of 
these,  with  my  usual  piece  of  smuggled  lead  pencil,  I 
soon  began  to  indite  and  submit  to  the  officers  of  the 
institution,  letters  in  which  I  described  the  cruel  prac- 
tices which  came  under  my  notice.  My  reports 
were  perfunctorily  accepted  and  at  once  forgotten  or 
ignored.  Yet  these  letters,  so  far  as  they  related  to 
overt  acts  witnessed,  were  lucid  and  should  have  been 
convincing.  Furthermore,  my  allegations  were  fre- 
quently corroborated  by  bruises  on  the  bodies  of  the 
patients.  My  usual  custom  was  to  write  an  account 
of  each  assault  and  hand  it  to  the  doctor  in  authority. 


176  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Frequently  I  would  submit  these  reports  to  the  attend- 
ants with  instructions  first  to  read  and  then  deliver  them 
to  the  superintendent  or  the  assistant  physician.  The 
men  whose  cruelty  I  thus  laid  bare  read  with  evident 
but  perverted  pleasure  my  accounts  of  assaults,  and 
laughed  and  joked  about  my  ineffectual  attempts  to  bring 
them  to  book 


XXIII 

I  refused  to  be  a  martyr.  Rebellion  was  my  watch- 
word. The  only  difference  between  the  doctor's  opinion 
of  me  and  mine  of  him  was  that  he  could  refuse  utter- 
ance to  his  thoughts.  Yes — there  was  another  differ- 
ence. Mine  could  be  expressed  only  in  words — his  in 
grim  acts. 

I  repeatedly  made  demands  for  those  privileges  to 
which  I  knew  I  was  entitled.  When  he  saw  fit  to  grant 
them,  I  gave  him  perfunctory  thanks.  When  he  refused 
— as  he  usually  did — I  at  once  poured  upon  his  head  the 
vials  of  my  wrath.  One  day  I  would  be  on  the  friend- 
liest terms  with  the  doctor,  the  next  I  would  upbraid 
him  for  some  denial  of  my  rights — or,  as  frequently 
happened,  for  not  intervening  in  behalf  of  the  rights 
of  others. 

It  was  after  one  of  these  wrangles  that  I  was  placed  in  a 
cold  cell  in  the  Bull  Pen  at  eleven  o'clock  one  morning. 
Still  without  shoes  and  with  no  more  covering  than  under- 
clothes, I  was  forced  to  stand,  sit,  or  he  upon  a  bare 
floor  as  hard  and  cold  as  the  pavement  outside.  Not 
until  sundown  was  I  provided  even  with  a  drugget,  and 
this  did  little  good,  for  already  I  had  become  thoroughly 
chilled.  In  consequence  I  contracted  a  severe  cold 
which  added  greatly  to  my  discomfort  and  might  have 
led  to  serious  results  had  I  been  of  less  sturdy  fibre. 

177 


178  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

This  day  was  the  thirteenth  of  December  and  the 
twenty-second  of  my  exile  in  the  violent  ward.  I  re- 
member it  distinctly  for  it  was  the  seventy-seventh 
birthday  of  my  father,  to  whom  I  wished  to  write  a 
congratulatory  letter.  This  had  been  my  custom  for 
years  when  absent  from  home  on  that  anniversary. 
And  well  do  I  remember  when,  and  under  what 
conditions,  I  asked  the  doctor  for  permission.  It  was 
night.  I  was  flat  on  my  drugget-bed.  My  cell  was 
lighted  only  by  the  feeble  rays  of  a  lantern  held  by  an 
attendant  to  the  doctor  on  this  his  regular  visit.  At 
first  I  couched  my  request  in  polite  language.  The 
doctor  merely  refused  to  grant  it.  I  then  put  forth  my 
plea  in  a  way  calculated  to  arouse  sympathy.  He 
remained  unmoved.  I  then  pointed  out  that  he  was 
defying  the  law  of  the  State  which  provided  that  a  patient 
should  have  stationery — a  statute,  the  spirit  of  which  at 
least  meant  that  he  should  be  permitted  to  communi- 
cate with  his  conservator.  It  was  now  three  weeks 
since  I  had  been  permitted  to  write  or  send  a  letter  to 
anyone.  Contrary  to  my  custom,  therefore,  I  made 
my  final  demand  in  the  form  of  a  concession.  I 
promised  that  I  would  write  only  a  conventional  note 
of  congratulation,  making  no  mention  whatever  of 
my  plight.  It  was  a  fair  offer;  but  to  accept  it  would 
have  been  an  implied  admission  that  there  was  something 
to  conceal,  and  for  this,  if  for  no  other  reason,  it  was 
refused. 

Thus,  day  after  day,  I  was  repressed  in  a  manner  which 
probably  would  have  driven  many  a  sane  man  to  vio- 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  179 

lence.  Yet  the  doctor  would  frequently  exhort  me  to  play 
the  gentleman.  Were  good  manners  and  sweet  submis- 
sion ever  the  product  of  such  treatment?  Deprived  of  my 
clothes,  of  sufficient  food,  of  warmth,  of  all  sane  com- 
panionship and  of  my  liberty,  I  told  those  in  authority 
that  so  long  as  they  should  continue  to  treat  me  as  the 
vilest  of  criminals,  I  should  do  my  best  to  complete  the 
illusion.  The  burden  of  proving  my  sanity  was  placed 
upon  me.  I  was  told  that  so  soon  as  I  became  polite  and 
meek  and  lowly  I  should  find  myself  in  possession  of 
my  clothes  and  of  certain  privileges.  In  every  instance 
I  must  earn  my  reward  before  being  entrusted  with  it. 
If  the  doctor,  instead  of  demanding  of  me  all  the  negative 
virtues  in  the  catalogue  of  spineless  saints,  had  given 
me  my  clothes  on  the  condition  that  they  would  be  taken 
from  me  again  if  I  so  much  as  removed  a  button,  his 
course  would  doubtless  have  been  productive  of  good 
results.  Thus  I  might  have  had  my  clothes  three  weeks 
earlier  than  I  did,  and  so  been  spared  much  suffering 
from  the  cold. 

I  clamored  daily  for  a  lead  pencil.  This  little  luxury 
represents  the  margin  of  happiness  for  hundreds  of  the 
patients,  just  as  a  plug  or  package  of  tobacco  represents 
the  margin  of  happiness  for  thousands  of  others;  but  for 
seven  weeks  no  doctor  or  attendant  gave  me  one.  To  be 
sure,  by  reason  of  my  somewhat  exceptional  persistence 
and  ingenuity,  I  managed  to  be  always  in  possession  of 
some  substitute  for  a  pencil,  surreptitiously  obtained,  a 
fact  which  no  doubt  had  something  to  do  with  the  doctor's 
indifference  to  my  request.     But  my  inability  to  secure 


180  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  pencil  in  a  legitimate  way  was  a  needless  source  of 
annoyance  to  me,  and  many  of  my  verbal  indiscretions 
were  directly  inspired  by  the  doctor's  continued  refusal. 
It  was  an  assistant  physician,  other  than  the  one 
regularly  in  charge  of  my  case,  who  at  last  relented  and 
presented  me  with  a  good,  whole  lead  pencil.  By  so 
doing  he  placed  himself  high  on  my  list  of  benefactors; 
for  that  little  shaftlike  implement,  magnified  by  my 
lively  appreciation,  became  as  the  very  axis  of  the  earth. 


XXIV 

A  few  days  before  Christmas  my  most  galling  depriva- 
tion was  at  last  removed.  That  is,  my  clothes  were 
restored.  These  I  treated  with  great  respect.  Not  so 
much  as  a  thread  did  I  destroy.  Clothes,  as  is  known, 
have  a  sobering  and  civilizing  effect,  and  from  the  very 
moment  I  was  again  provided  with  presentable  outer 
garments  my  conduct  rapidly  improved.  The  assistant 
physician  with  whom  I  had  been  on  such  variable  terms 
of  friendship  and  enmity  even  took  me  for  a  sleigh-ride. 
With  this  improvement  came  other  privileges  or,  rather, 
the  granting  of  my  rights.  Late  in  December  I  was 
permitted  to  send  letters  to  my  conservator.  Though 
some  of  my  blood-curdling  letters  were  confiscated, 
a  few  detailing  my  experiences  were  forwarded.  The 
account  of  my  sufferings  naturally  distressed  my  con- 
servator, but,  as  he  said  when  he  next  visited  me: 
"What  could  I  have  done  to  help  you?  If  the  men  in 
this  State  whose  business  it  is  to  run  these  institu- 
tions cannot  manage  you,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  know  what 
to  do."  True,  he  could  have  done  little  or  nothing,  for 
he  did  not  then  know  the  ins  and  outs  of  the  baffling 
situation  into  which  the  ties  of  blood  had  drawn  him. 

About  the  middle  of  January  the  doctor  in  charge  of 
my  case  went  for  a  two  weeks'  vacation.  During  his 
absence  an  older  member  of  the  staff  took  charge  of 

181 


182  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

the  violent  ward.  A  man  of  wider  experience  and  more 
liberal  ideas  than  his  predecessor,  he  at  once  granted  me 
several  real  privileges.  One  day  he  permitted  me  to 
pay  a  brief  visit  to  the  best  ward — the  one  from  which  I 
had  been  transferred  two  months  earlier.  I  thus  was  able 
again  to  mingle  with  many  seemingly  normal  men,  and 
though  I  enjoyed  this  privilege  upon  but  one  occasion, 
and  then  only  for  a  few  hours,  it  gave  me  intense  satis- 
faction. 

Altogether  the  last  six  weeks  of  the  fourteen  during 
which  I  was  confined  in  the  violent  ward  were  comfort- 
able and  relatively  happy.  I  was  no  longer  subjected 
to  physical  abuse,  though  this  exemption  was  largely 
due  to  my  own  skill  in  avoiding  trouble.  I  was  no  longer 
co]d  and  hungry.  I  was  allowed  a  fair  amount  of  out- 
door exercise  which,  after  my  close  confinement,  proved 
to  be  a  delightful  shock.  But,  above  all,  I  was  again 
given  an  adequate  supply  of  stationery  and  drawing 
materials,  which  became  as  tinder  under  the  focussed 
rays  of  my  artistic  eagerness.  My  mechanical  investi- 
gations were  gradually  set  aside.  Art  and  literature 
again  held  sway.  Except  when  out  of  doors  taking 
my  allotted  exercise,  I  remained  in  my  room  reading, 
writing,  or  drawing.  This  room  of  mine  soon  became 
a  Mecca  for  the  most  irrepressible  and  loquacious  char- 
acters in  the  ward.  But  I  soon  schooled  myself  to  shut 
my  ears  to  the  incoherent  prattle  of  my  unwelcome 
visitors.  Occasionally,  some  of  them  would  become  ob- 
streperous— perhaps  because  of  my  lordly  order  to  leave 
the  room.     Often  did  they  threaten  to  throttle  me;   but 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  183 

I  ignored  the  threats,  and  they  were  never  carried  out. 
Nor  was  I  afraid  that  they  would  be.  Invariably  I 
induced  them  to  obey. 

The  drawings  I  produced  at  this  time  were  crude.  For 
the  most  part  they  consisted  of  copies  of  illustrations 
which  I  had  cut  from  magazines  that  had  miraculously 
found  their  way  into  the  violent  ward.  The  heads  of 
men  and  women  interested  me  most,  for  I  had  decided 
to  take  up  portraiture.  At  first  I  was  content  to  draw 
in  black  and  white,  but  I  soon  procured  some  colors  and 
from  that  time  on  devoted  my  attention  to  mastering 
pastel. 

In  the  world  of  letters  I  had  made  little  progress.  My 
compositions  were  for  the  most  part  epistles  addressed 
to  relatives  and  friends  and  to  those  in  authority  at  the 
hospital.  Frequently  the  letters  addressed  to  the  doc- 
tors were  sent  in  sets  of  three — this  to  save  time,  for  I 
was  very  busy.  The  first  letter  of  such  a  series  would 
contain  my  request,  couched  in  friendly  and  polite  terms. 
To  this  I  would  add  a  postscript,  worded  about  as  fol- 
lows: "If,  after  reading  this  letter,  you  feel  inclined 
to  refuse  my  request,  please  read  letter  number  two." 
Letter  number  two  would  be  severely  formal — a  business- 
like repetition  of  the  request  made  in  letter  number  one. 
Again  a  postscript  would  advise  the  reader  to  consult 
letter  number  three,  if  the  reading  of  number  two  had 
failed  to  move  him.  Letter  number  three  was  invariably 
a  brief  philippic  in  which  I  would  consign  the  unaccom- 
modating doctor  to  oblivion. 

In  this  way  I  expended  part  of  my  prodigious  supply 


184  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

of  feeling  and  energy.  But  I  had  also  another  way  of 
reducing  my  creative  pressure.  Occasionally,  from 
sheer  excess  of  emotion,  I  would  burst  into  verse,  of  a 
quality  not  to  be  doubted.  Of  that  quality  the  reader 
shall  judge,  for  I  am  going  to  quote  a  "creation"  written 
under  circumstances  which,  to  say  the  least,  were  adverse. 
Before  writing  these  lines  I  had  never  attempted  verse 
in  my  life — barring  intentionally  inane  doggerel.  And, 
as  I  now  judge  these  lines,  it  is  probably  true  that  even 
yet  I  have  never  written  a  poem.  Nevertheless,  my 
involuntary,  almost  automatic  outburst  is  at  least  sug- 
gestive of  the  fervor  that  was  in  me.  These  fourteen 
lines  were  written  within  thirty  minutes  of  the  time  I 
first  conceived  the  idea;  and  I  present  them  substantially 
as  they  first  took  form.  From  a  psychological  stand- 
point at  least,  I  am  told,  they  are  not  without  interest. 

LIGHT 

Man's  darkest  hour  is  the  hour  before  he's  born, 

Another  is  the  hour  just  before  the  Dawn; 

From  Darkness  unto  Life  and  Light  he  leaps, 

To  Life  but  once, — to  Light  as  oft  as  God  wills  he  should. 

'Tis  God's  own  secret,  why 

Some  live  long,  and  others  early  die; 

For  Life  depends  on  Light,  and  Light  on  God, 

Who  hath  given  to  Man  the  perfect  knowledge 

That  Grim  Despair  and  Sorrow  end  in  Light 

And  Life  everlasting,  in  realms 

Where  darkest  Darkness  becomes  Light; 

But  not  the  Light  Man  knows, 

Which  only  is  Light 

Because  God  told  Man  so. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  185 

These  verses,  which  breathe  religion,  were  written 
in  an  environment  which  was  anything  but  religious. 
With  curses  of  ward-mates  ringing  in  my  ears,  some 
subconscious  part  of  me  seemed  to  force  me  to  write  at 
its  dictation.  I  was  far  from  being  in  a  pious  frame  of 
mind  myself,  and  the  quality  of  my  thought  surprised 
me  then — as  it  does  now. 


XXV 

Though  I  continued  to  respect  my  clothes,  I  did  not 
at  once  cease  to  tear  such  material  as  would  serve  me  in 
my  scientific  investigations.  Gravity  being  conquered,  it 
was  inevitable  that  I  should  devote  some  of  my  time  to 
the  invention  of  a  flying-machine.  This  was  soon  per- 
fected— in  my  mind;  and  all  I  needed,  that  I  might  test 
the  device,  was  my  liberty.  As  usual  I  was  unable  to 
explain  how  I  should  produce  the  result  which  I  so  con- 
fidently foretold.  But  I  believed  and  proclaimed  that  I 
should,  ere  long,  fly  to  St.  Louis  and  claim  and  receive 
the  one-hundred-thousand-dollar  reward  offered  by  the 
Commission  of  the  Louisiana  Purchase  Exposition  for 
the  most  efficient  airship  to  be  exhibited.  The  moment 
the  thought  winged  its  way  through  my  mind,  I  had  not 
only  a  flying-machine,  but  a  fortune  in  the  bank.  Being 
where  I  could  not  dissipate  my  riches,  I  became  a  lavish 
verbal  spender.  I  was  in  a  mood  to  buy  anything,  and 
I  whiled  away  many  an  hour  planning  what  I  should  do 
with  my  fortune.  The  St.  Louis  prize  was  a  paltry  trifle. 
I  reasoned  that  the  man  who  could  harness  gravity  had 
at  his  beck  and  call  the  world  and  all  that  therein  is. 
This  sudden  accession  of  wealth  made  my  vast  humani- 
tarian projects  seem  only  the  more  feasible.  What  could 
be  more  delightful,  I  thought,  than  the  furnishing  and 

1 86 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  187 

financing  of  ideas  of  a  magnitude  to  stagger  humanity. 
My  condition  was  one  of  ecstatic  suspense.  Give  me 
my  liberty  and  I  would  show  a  sleepy  old  world 
what  could  be  done  to  improve  conditions,  not  only 
among  the  insane,  but  along  every  line  of  beneficent 
endeavor. 

The  city  of  my  birth  was  to  be  made  a  garden-spot. 
All  defiling,  smoke-begriming  factories  were  to  be  ban- 
ished to  an  innocuous  distance.  Churches  were  to  give 
way  to  cathedrals;  the  city  itself  was  to  become  a  para- 
dise of  mansions.  Yale  University  was  to  be  trans- 
formed into  the  most  magnificent — yet  efficient — seat  of 
learning  in  the  world.  For  once,  college  professors  were 
to  be  paid  adequate  salaries,  and  alluring  provision  for 
their  declining  years  was  to  be  made.  New  Haven 
should  become  a  very  hotbed  of  culture.  Art  galleries, 
libraries,  museums  and  theatres  of  a  dreamlike  splendor 
were  to  rise  whenever  and  wherever  I  should  will.  Why 
absurd?  Was  it  not  I  who  would  defray  the  cost?  The 
famous  buildings  of  the  Old  World  were  to  be  reproduced, 
if,  indeed,  the  originals  could  not  be  purchased,  brought 
to  this  country  and  reassembled.  Not  far  from  New 
Haven  there  is  a  sandy  plain,  once  the  bed  of  the  Con- 
necticut River,  but  now  a  kind  of  miniature  desert.  I 
often  smile  as  I  pass  it  on  the  train;  for  it  was  here,  for 
the  edification  of  those  who  might  never  be  able  to  visit 
the  Valley  of  the  Nile,  that  I  planned  to  erect  a  pyramid 
that  should  out- Cheops  the  original.  My  harnessed 
gravity,  I  believed,  would  not  only  enable  me  to  overcome 
existing  mechanical  difficulties,  but  it  would  make  the 


1 88  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

quarrying  of  immense  monoliths  as  easy  as  the  slicing 
of  bread,  and  the  placing  of  them  in  position  as  easy  as 
the  laying  of  bricks. 

After  all,  delusions  of  grandeur  are  the  most  entertaining 
of  toys.  The  assortment  which  my  imagination  provided 
was  a  comprehensive  one.  I  had  tossed  aside  the  blocks 
of  childhood  days.  Instead  of  laboriously  piling  small 
squares  of  wood  one  upon  another  in  an  endeavor  to 
build  the  tiny  semblance  of  a  house,  I  now,  in  this  second 
childhood  of  mine,  projected  against  thin  air  phantom 
edifices  planned  and  completed  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye.  To  be  sure,  such  houses  of  cards  almost  immedi- 
ately superseded  one  another,  but  the  vanishing  of  one 
could  not  disturb  a  mind  that  had  ever  another  interest- 
ing bauble  to  take  its  place.  And  therein  lies  part  of  the 
secret  of  the  happiness  peculiar  to  that  stage  of  elation 
which  is  distinguished  by  delusions  of  grandeur — always 
provided  that  he  who  is  possessed  by  them  be  not  sub- 
jected to  privation  and  abuse.  The  sane  man  who  can 
prove  that  he  is  rich  in  material  wealth  is  not  nearly  so 
happy  as  the  mentally  disordered  man  whose  delusions 
trick  him  into  believing  himself  a  modern  Crcesus.  A 
wealth  of  Midaslike  delusions  is  no  burden.  Such  a  for- 
tune, though  a  misfortune  in  itself,  bathes  the  world  in 
a  golden  glow.  No  clouds  obscure  the  vision.  Optimism 
reigns  supreme.  "Failure"  and  "impossible"  are  as 
words  from  an  unknown  tongue.  And  the  unique 
satisfaction  about  a  fortune  of  this  fugitive  type  is  that 
its  loss  occasions  no  regret.  One  by  one  the  phantom 
ships  of  treasure  sail  away  for  parts  unknown;   until, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  189 

when  the  last  ship  has  become  but  a  speck  on  the 
mental  horizon,  the  observer  makes  the  happy  discovery 
that  his  pirate  fleet  has  left  behind  it  a  priceless  wake  of 
Reason! 


XXVI 

Early  in  March,  1902,  having  lived  in  a  violent 
ward  for  nearly  four  months,  I  was  transferred  to 
another — a  ward  quite  as  orderly  as  the  best  in  the  insti- 
tution, though  less  attractively  furnished  than  the  one 
in  which  I  had  first  been  placed.  Here  also  I  had  a 
room  to  myself;  in  this  instance,  however,  the  room  had 
not  only  a  bed,  but  a  chair  and  a  wardrobe.  With  this 
elaborate  equipment  I  was  soon  able  to  convert  my 
room  into  a  veritable  studio.  Whereas  in  the  violent 
ward  it  had  been  necessary  for  me  to  hide  my  writing 
and  drawing  materials  to  keep  other  patients  from  tak- 
ing them,  in  my  new  abode  I  was  able  to  conduct  my 
literary  and  artistic  pursuits  without  the  annoyances 
which  had  been  inevitable  during  the  preceding  months. 

Soon  after  my  transfer  to  this  ward  I  was  permitted 
to  go  out  of  doors  and  walk  to  the  business  section  of 
the  city,  two  miles  distant.  But  on  these  walks  I  was 
always  accompanied.  To  one  who  has  never  surren- 
dered any  part  of  his  liberty  such  surveillance  would 
no  doubt  seem  irksome;  yet,  to  me,  after  being  so 
closely  confined,  the  ever-present  attendant  seemed  a 
companion  rather  than  a  guard.  These  excursions 
into  the  sane  and  free  world  were  not  only  a  great 
pleasure,  they  were  almost  a  tonic.  To  rub  elbows  with 
normal  people  tended  to  restore  my  mental  poise.    That 

190 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  191 

the  casual  passer-by  had  no  way  of  knowing  that  I 
was  a  patient,  out  for  a  walk  about  the  city,  helped 
me  gain  that  self-confidence  so  essential  to  the  success 
of  one  about  to  re-enter  a  world  from  which  he  had  long 
been  cut  off. 

My  first  trips  to  the  city  were  made  primarily  for  the 
purpose  of  supplying  myself  with  writing  and  drawing 
materials.  While  enjoying  these  welcome  tastes  of  lib- 
erty, on  more  than  one  occasion  I  surreptitiously  mailed 
certain  letters  which  I  did  not  dare  entrust  to  the  doctor. 
Under  ordinary  circumstances  such  an  act  on  the  part 
of  one  enjoying  a  special  privilege  would  be  dishonor- 
able. But  the  circumstances  that  then  obtained  were 
not  ordinary.  I  was  simply  protecting  myself  against 
what  I  believed  to  be  unjust  and  illegal  confiscation  of 
letters. 

I  have  already  described  how  an  assistant  physician 
arbitrarily  denied  my  request  that  I  be  permitted  to  send 
a  birthday  letter  to  my  father,  thereby  not  merely  ex- 
ceeding his  authority  and  ignoring  decency,  but,  con- 
sciously or  unconsciously,  stifling  a  sane  impulse.  That 
this  should  occur  while  I  was  confined  in  the  Bull  Pen 
was,  perhaps,  not  so  surprising.  But  about  four  months 
later,  while  I  was  in  one  of  the  best  wards,  a  similar, 
though  less  open,  interference  occurred.  At  this  time  I 
was  so  nearly  normal  that  my  discharge  was  a  question 
of  but  a  very  few  months.  Anticipating  my  return  to 
my  old  world,  I  decided  to  renew  former  relationships. 
Accordingly,  my  brother,  at  my  suggestion,  informed 
certain  friends  that  I  should  be  pleased  to  receive  letters 


102  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

from  them.  They  soon  wrote.  In  the  meantime  the 
doctor  had  been  instructed  to  deliver  to  me  any  and  all 
letters  that  might  arrive.  He  did  so  for  a  time,  and 
that  without  censoring.  As  was  to  be  expected,  after 
nearly  three  almost  letterless  years,  I  found  rare 
delight  in  replying  to  my  reawakened  correspondents. 
Yet  some  of  these  letters,  written  for  the  deliberate 
purpose  of  re-establishing  myself  in  the  sane  world, 
were  destroyed  by  the  doctor  in  authority.  At  the  time, 
not  one  word  did  he  say  to  me  about  the  matter.  I  had 
handed  him  for  mailing  certain  letters,  unsealed.  He 
did  not  mail  them,  nor  did  he  forward  them  to  my  con- 
servator as  he  should  have  done,  and  had  earlier  agreed 
to  do  with  all  letters  which  he  could  not  see  his  way  clear 
to  approve.  It  was  fully  a  month  before  I  learned  that 
my  friends  had  not  received  my  replies  to  their  letters. 
Then  I  accused  the  doctor  of  destroying  them,  and  he, 
with  belated  frankness,  admitted  that  he  had  done  so. 
He  offered  no  better  excuse  than  the  mere  statement 
that  he  did  not  approve  of  the  sentiments  I  had  expressed. 
Another  flagrant  instance  was  that  of  a  letter  addressed 
to  me  in  reply  to  one  of  those  which  I  had  posted  sur- 
reptitiously. The  person  to  whom  I  wrote,  a  friend  of 
years'  standing,  later  informed  me  that  he  had  sent 
the  reply.  I  never  received  it.  Neither  did  my  conser- 
vator. Were  it  not  that  I  feel  absolutely  sure  that 
the  letter  in  question  was  received  at  the  hospital 
and  destroyed,  I  should  not  now  raise  this  point.  But 
such  a  point,  if  raised  at  all,  must  of  course  be  made 
without  that  direct  proof  which  can  come  only  from  the 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  193 

man  guilty  of  an  act  which  in  the  sane  world  is  regarded 
as  odious  and  criminal. 

I  therefore  need  not  dilate  on  the  reasons  which  made 
it  necessary  for  me  to  smuggle,  as  it  were,  to  the  Gover- 
nor of  the  State,  a  letter  of  complaint  and  instruction. 
This  letter  was  written  shortly  after  my  transfer  from 
the  violent  ward.  The  abuses  of  that  ward  were  still 
fresh  in  my  mind,  and  the  memory  of  distressing  scenes 
was  kept  vivid  by  reports  reaching  me  from  friends 
who  were  still  confined  there.  These  private  sleuths 
of  mine  I  talked  with  at  theJ  evening  entertainments 
or  at  other  gatherings.  From  them  I  learned  that 
brutality  had  become  more  rife,  if  anything,  since  I 
had  left  the  ward.  Realizing  that  my  crusade  against 
the  physical  abuse  of  patients  thus  far  had  proved  of  no 
avail,  I  determined  to  go  over  the  heads  of  the  doctors 
and  appeal  to  the  ex-officio  head  of  the  institution,  the 
Governor  of  the  State. 

On  March  12th,  1903,  I  wrote  a  letter  which  so  dis- 
turbed the  Governor  that  he  immediately  set  about  an 
informal  investigation  of  some  of  my  charges.  Despite 
its  prolixity,  its  unconventional  form  and  what,  under 
other  circumstances,  would  be  characterized  as  almost 
diabolic  impudence  and  familiarity,  my  letter,  as  he 
said  months  later  when  I  talked  with  him,  "rang  true." 
The  writing  of  it  was  an  easy  matter;  in  fact,  so  easy, 
because  of  the  pressure  of  truth  under  which  I  was 
laboring  at  the  time,  that  it  embodied  a  compelling 
spontaneity. 

The  mailing  of  it  was  not  so  easy.    I  knew  that  the 


194  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

only  sure  way  of  getting  my  thoughts  before  the  Governor 
was  to  do  my  own  mailing.  Naturally  no  doctor  could 
be  trusted  to  send  an  indictment  against  himself  and  his 
colleagues  to  the  one  man  in  the  State  who  had  the  power 
to  institute  such  an  investigation  as  might  make  it  neces- 
sary for  all  to  seek  employment  elsewhere.  In  my  frame 
of  mind,  to  wish  to  mail  my  letter  was  to  know  how  to 
accomplish  the  wish.  The  letter  was  in  reality  a  book- 
let. I  had  thoughtfully  used  waterproof  India  drawing 
ink  in  writing  it,  in  order,  perhaps,  that  a  remote  pos- 
terity might  not  be  deprived  of  the  document.  The 
booklet  consisted  of  thirty-two  eight-by-ten-inch  pages 
of  heavy  white  drawing  paper.  These  I  sewed  together. 
In  planning  the  form  of  my  letter  I  had  forgotten  to 
consider  the  slot  of  a  letter-box  of  average  size.  There- 
fore I  had  to  adopt  an  unusual  method  of  getting  the 
letter  into  the  mails.  My  expedient  was  simple.  There 
was  in  the  town  a  certain  shop  where  I  traded.  At  my 
request  the  doctor  gave  me  permission  to  go  there  for 
supplies.  I  was  of  course  accompanied  by  an  attendant, 
who  little  suspected  what  was  under  my  vest.  To  con- 
ceal and  carry  my  letter  in  that  place  had  been  easy; 
but  to  get  rid  of  it  after  reaching  my  goal  was  another 
matter.  Watching  my  opportunity,  I  slipped  the  mis- 
sive between  the  leaves  of  a  copy  of  the  Saturday  Even- 
ing Post.  This  I  did,  believing  that  some  purchaser 
would  soon  discover  the  letter  and  mail  it.  Then  I  left 
the  shop. 

On  the  back  of  the  wrapper  I  had  endorsed  the  follow- 
ing words: 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  195 

"Mr.  Postmaster:  This  package  is  unsealed.  Never- 
theless it  is  first-class  matter.  Everything  I  write  is 
necessarily  first  class.  I  have  affixed  two  two-cent 
stamps.  If  extra  postage  is  needed  you  will  do  the  Gov- 
ernor a  favor  if  you  will  put  the  extra  postage  on.  Or 
affix  'due'  stamps,  and  let  the  Governor  pay  his  own 
bills,  as  he  can  well  afford  to.  If  you  want  to  know 
who  I  am,  just  ask  his  Excellency,  and  oblige, 

Yours  truly, 

?" 

Flanking  this  notice,  I  had  arrayed  other  forceful 
sentiments,  as  follows — taken  from  statutes  which  I 
had  framed  for  the  occasion : 

"Any  person  finding  letter  or  package — duly  stamped 
and  addressed — must  mail  same  as  said  letter  or  package 
is  really  in  hands  of  the  Government  the  moment  the 
stamp  is  affixed." 

And  again: 

"Failure  to  comply  with  Federal  Statute  which  for- 
bids any  one  except  addressee  to  open  a  letter  renders 
one  liable  to  imprisonment  in  State  Prison." 

My  letter  reached  the  Governor.  One  of  the  clerks 
at  the  shop  in  which  I  left  the  missive  found  and  mailed 
it.  From  him  I  afterwards  learned  that  my  unique 
instructions  had  piqued  his  curiosity,  as  well  as  com- 
pelled my  wished-for  action.  Assuming  that  the  reader's 
curiosity  may  likewise  have  been  piqued,  I  shall  quote 
certain  passages  from  this  four-thousand-word  epistle 
of  protest.  The  opening  sentence  read  as  follows:  "If 
you  have  had  the  courage  to  read  the  above  "  (referring 


196  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  an  unconventional  heading)  "  I  hope  you  will  read 
on  to  the  end  of  this  epistle — thereby  displaying  real 
Christian  fortitude  and  learning  a  few  facts  which  I 
think  should  be  brought  to  your  attention." 

I  then  introduced  myself,  mentioning  a  few  common 
friends,  by  way  of  indicating  that  I  was  not  without 
influential  political  connections,  and  proceeded  as  follows : 
"I  take  pleasure  in  informing  you  that  I  am  in  the  Crazy 
Business  and  am  holding  my  job  down  with  ease  and  a 
fair  degree  of  grace.  Being  in  the  Crazy  Business,  I 
understand  certain  phases  of  the  business  about  which 
you  know  nothing.  You  as  Governor  are  at  present 
'head  devil'  in  this  'hell,'  though  I  know  you  are  uncon- 
sciously acting  as  'His  Majesty's'  1st  Lieutenant." 

I  then  launched  into  my  arraignment  of  the  treatment 
of  the  insane.  The  method,  I  declared,  was  "wrong 
from  start  to  finish.  The  abuses  existing  here  exist  in 
every  other  institution  of  the  kind  in  the  country.  They 
are  all  alike — though  some  of  them  are  of  course  worse 
than  others.  Hell  is  hell  the  world  over,  and  I  might 
also  add  that  hell  is  only  a  great  big  bunch  of  disagree- 
able details  anyway.  That's  all  an  Insane  Asylum  is. 
If  you  don't  believe  it,  just  go  crazy  and  take  up  your 
abode  here.  In  writing  this  letter  I  am  laboring  under 
no  mental  excitement.  I  am  no  longer  subjected  to  the 
abuses  about  which  I  complain.  I  am  well  and  happy. 
In  fact  I  never  was  so  happy  as  I  am  now.  Whether 
I  am  in  perfect  mental  health  or  not,  I  shall  leave  for  you 
to  decide.  If  I  am  insane  to-day  I  hope  I  may  never 
recover  my  Reason." 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  197 

First  I  assailed  the  management  of  the  private  insti- 
tution where  I  had  been  strait-jacketed  and  referred 
to  "Jekyll-Hyde"  as  "Dr. ,  M.D.  (Mentally  De- 
ranged)." Then  followed  an  account  of  the  strait- jacket 
experience;  then  an  account  of  abuses  at  the  State  Hos- 
pital. I  described  in  detail  the  most  brutal  assault  that 
fell  to  my  lot.  In  summing  up  I  said,  "The  attendants 
claimed  next  day  that  I  had  called  them  certain  names. 
Maybe  I  did — though  I  don't  believe  I  did  at  all.  What 
of  it?  This  is  no  young  ladies'  boarding  school.  Should 
a  man  be  nearly  killed  because  he  swears  at  attendants 
who  swear  like  pirates?  I  have  seen  at  least  fifteen  men, 
many  of  them  mental  and  physical  wrecks,  assaulted  just 
as  brutally  as  I  was,  and  usually  without  a  cause.  I  know 
that  men's  lives  have  been  shortened  by  these  brutal 
assaults.  And  that  is  only  a  polite  way  of  saying  that 
murder  has  been  committed  here."  Turning  next  to 
the  matter  of  the  women's  wards,  I  said:  "A  patient  in 
this  ward — a  man  in  his  right  mind,  who  leaves  here  on 
Tuesday  next — told  me  that  a  woman  patient  told  him 
that  she  had  seen  many  a  helpless  woman  dragged  along 
the  floor  by  her  hair,  and  had  also  seen  them  choked  by 
attendants  who  used  a  wet  towel  as  a  sort  of  garrote.  I 
have  been  through  the  mill  and  believe  every  word  of 
the  abuse.  You  will  perhaps  doubt  it,  as  it  seems  impos- 
sible. Bear  in  mind,  though,  that  everything  bad  and 
disagreeable  is  possible  in  an  Insane  Asylum." 

It  will  be  observed  that  I  was  shrewd  enough  to 
qualify  a  charge  I  could  not  prove. 

When  I  came  to  the  matter  of  the  Bull  Pen,  I  wasted 


198  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

no  words:  "The  Bull  Pen,"  I  wrote,  "is  a  pocket  edition 
of  the  New  York  Stock  Exchange  during  a  panic." 

I  next  pointed  out  the  difficulties  a  patient  must  over- 
come in  mailing  letters:  "It  is  impossible  for  any  one  to 
send  a  letter  to  you  via  the  office.  The  letter  would  be 
consigned  to  the  waste-basket — unless  it  was  a  particu- 
larly crazy  letter — in  which  case  it  might  reach  you,  as 
you  would  then  pay  no  attention  to  it.  But  a  sane  letter 
and  a  true  letter,  telling  about  the  abuses  which  exist 
here  would  stand  no  show  of  being  mailed.  The  way 
in  which  mail  is  tampered  with  by  the  medical  staff  is 
contemptible." 

I  then  described  my  stratagem  in  mailing  my  letter  to 
the  Governor.  Discovering  that  I  had  left  a  page  of 
my  epistolary  booklet  blank,  I  drew  upon  it  a  copy  of 
Rembrandt's  Anatomy  Lesson,  and  under  it  wrote: 
"This  page  was  skipped  by  mistake.  Had  to  fight 
fifty-three  days  to  get  writing  paper  and  I  hate  to  waste 
any  space — hence  the  masterpiece — drawn  in  five  min- 
utes. Never  drew  a  line  till  September  26  (last)  and 
never  took  lessons  in  my  life.  I  think  you  will  readily 
believe  my  statement."  Continuing  in  the  same  half- 
bantering  vein,  I  said:  "I  intend  to  immortalize  all 
members  of  medical  staff  of  State  Hospital  for  Insane — ■ 
when  I  illustrate  my  Inferno,  which,  when  written,  will 
make  Dante's  Divine  Comedy  look  like  a  French  Farce." 

I  then  outlined  my  plans  for  reform:  "Whether  my 
suggestions  meet  with  approval  or  not,"  I  wrote,  "will 
not  affect  the  result — though  opposition  on  your  part 
would  perhaps  delay  reforms.     I  have  decided  to  devote 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  ~  199 

the  next  few  years  of  my  life  to  correcting  abuses  now  in 
existence  in  every  asylum  in  this  country.  I  know  how 
these  abuses  can  be  corrected  and  I  intend — later  on, 
when  I  understand  the  subject  better — to  draw  up  a 
Bill  of  Rights  for  the  Insane.  Every  State  in  the  Union 
will  pass  it,  because  it  will  be  founded  on  the  Golden 
Rule.  I  am  desirous  of  having  the  co-operation  of  the 
Governor  of  Connecticut,  but  if  my  plans  do  not  appeal  to 
him  I  shall  deal  directly  with  his  only  superior,  the  Presi- 
dent of  the  United  States.  When  Theodore  Roosevelt 
hears  my  story  his  blood  will  boil.  I  would  write  to 
him  now,  but  I  am  afraid  he  would  jump  in  and  correct 
abuses  too  quickly.  And  by  doing  it  too  quickly  too 
little  good  would  be  accomplished." 

Waxing  crafty,  yet,  as  I  believed,  writing  truth,  I  con- 
tinued: "I  need  money  badly,  and  if  I  cared  to,  I  could 
sell  my  information  and  services  to  the  New  York  World 
or  New  York  Journal  for  a  large  amount.  But  I  do  not 
intend  to  advertise  Connecticut  as  a  Hell-hole  of  Iniquity, 
Insanity,  and  Injustice.  If  the  facts  appeared  in  the 
public  press  at  this  time,  Connecticut  would  lose  caste 
with  her  sister  States.  And  they  would  profit  by  Con- 
necticut's disgrace  and  correct  the  abuses  before  they 
could  be  put  on  the  rack.  As  these  conditions  prevail 
throughout  the  country,  there  is  no  reason  why  Con- 
necticut should  get  all  the  abuse  and  criticism  which 
would  follow  any  such  revelation  of  disgusting  abuse; 
such  inhuman  treatment  of  human  wrecks.  If  pub- 
licity is  necessary  to  force  you  to  act — and  I  am  sure  it 
will  not  be  necessary — I  shall  apply  for  a  writ  of  habeas 


200  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

corpus,  and,  in  proving  my  sanity  to  a  jury,  I  shall  inci- 
dentally prove  your  own  incompetence.  Permitting  such 
a  whirl-wind  reformer  to  drag  Connecticut's  disgrace 
into  open  court  would  prove  your  incompetence.,, 

For  several  obvious  reasons  it  is  well  that  I  did  not  at 
that  time  attempt  to  convince  a  jury  that  I  was  mentally 
sound.  The  mere  outlining  of  my  ambitious  scheme  for 
reform  would  have  caused  my  immediate  return  to  the 
hospital.  That  scheme,  however,  was  a  sound  and 
feasible  one,  as  later  events  have  proved.  But,  taking 
hold  of  me,  as  it  did,  while  my  imagination  was  at  white 
heat,  I  was  impelled  to  attack  my  problem  with  com- 
promising energy  and,  for  a  time,  in  a  manner  so  uncon- 
vincing as  to  obscure  the  essential  sanity  of  my  cherished 
purpose. 

I  closed  my  letter  as  follows:  "No  doubt  you  will  con- 
sider certain  parts  of  this  letter  rather  'fresh.'  I  apolo- 
gize for  any  such  passages  now,  but,  as  I  have  an  Insane 
License,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  what  I  think.  What's 
the  use  when  one  is  caged  like  a  criminal? 

"P.  S.  This  letter  is  a  confidential  one — and  is  to  be 
returned  to  the  writer  upon  demand.'' 

The  letter  was  eventually  forwarded  to  my  conserva- 
tor and  is  now  in  my  possession. 

As  a  result  of  my  protest  the  Governor  immediately 
interrogated  the  superintendent  of  the  institution  where 
"Jekyll-Hyde"  had  tortured  me.  Until  he  laid  before  the 
superintendent  my  charges  against  his  assistant,  the 
doctor  in  authority  had  not  even  suspected  that  I  had 
been  tortured.     This  superintendent  took  pride  in  his 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  20 1 

institution.  He  was  sensitive  to  criticism  and  it  was 
natural  that  he  should  strive  to  palliate  the  offence  of  his 
subordinate.  He  said  that  I  was  a  most  troublesome 
patient,  which  was,  indeed,  the  truth;  for  I  had  always 
a  way  of  my  own  for  doing  the  things  that  worried  those 
in  charge  of  me.  In  a  word,  I  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
situation  what  I  have  previously  referred  to  as  "an 
uncanny  admixture  of  sanity." 

The  Governor  did  not  meet  the  assistant  physician 
who  had  maltreated  me.  The  reprimand,  if  there  was 
to  be  any,  was  left  to  the  superintendent  to  administer. 

In  my  letter  to  the  Governor  I  had  laid  more  stress 
upon  the  abuses  to  which  I  had  been  subjected  at  this 
private  institution  than  I  had  upon  conditions  at  the 
State  Hospital  where  I  was  when  I  wrote  to  him.  This 
may  have  had  some  effect  on  the  action  he  took,  or 
rather  failed  to  take.  At  any  rate,  as  to  the  State  Hos- 
pital, no  action  was  taken.  Not  even  a  word  of  warning 
was  sent  to  the  officials,  as  I  later  learned;  for  before 
leaving  the  institution  I  asked  them. 

Though  my  letter  did  not  bring  about  an  investiga- 
tion, it  was  not  altogether  without  results.  Naturally, 
it  was  with  considerable  satisfaction  that  I  informed  the 
doctors  that  I  had  outwitted  them,  and  it  was  with 
even  greater  satisfaction  that  I  now  saw  those  in  au- 
thority make  a  determined,  if  temporary,  effort  to  pro- 
tect helpless  patients  against  the  cruelties  of  attendants. 
The  moment  the  doctors  were  convinced  that  I  had 
gone  over  their  heads  and  had  sent  a  characteristic  letter 
of  protest  to  the  Governor  of  the  State,  that  moment 


202  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

they  began  to  protect  themselves  with  an  energy  born 
of  a  realization  of  their  former  shortcomings.  Whether 
or  not  the  management  in  question  ever  admitted  that 
their  unwonted  activity  was  due  to  my  successful  strata- 
gem, the  fact  remains  that  the  summary  discharge  of 
several  attendants  accused  and  proved  guilty  of  bru- 
tality immediately  followed  and  for  a  while  put  a  stop 
to  wanton  assaults  against  which  for  a  period  of  four 
months  I  had  protested  in  vain.  Patients  who  still 
lived  in  the  violent  ward  told  me  that  comparative 
peace  reigned  about  this  time. 


XXVII 

My  failure  to  force  the  Governor  to  investigate  con- 
ditions at  the  State  Hospital  convinced  me  that  I  could 
not  hope  to  prosecute  my  reforms  until  I  should  regain 
my  liberty  and  re-establish  myself  in  my  old  world.  I 
therefore  quitted  the  role  of  reformer-militant;  and,  but 
for  an  occasional  outburst  of  righteous  indignation  at 
some  flagrant  abuse  which  obtruded  itself  upon  my 
notice,  my  demeanor  was  that  of  one  quite  content 
with  his  lot  in  life. 

I  was  indeed  content — I  was  happy.  Knowing  that  I 
should  soon  regain  my  freedom,  I  found  it  easy  to  for- 
give— taking  great  pains  not  to  forget — any  injustice 
which  had  been  done  me.  Liberty  is  sweet,  even  to  one 
whose  appreciation  of  it  has  never  been  augmented  by 
its  temporary  loss.  The  pleasurable  emotions  which 
my  impending  liberation  aroused  within  me  served  to 
soften  my  speech  and  render  me  more  tractable.  This 
change  the  assistant  physician  was  not  slow  to  note, 
though  he  was  rather  slow  in  placing  in  me  the  degree 
of  confidence  which  I  felt  I  deserved.  So  justifiable, 
however,  was  his  suspicion  that  even  at  the  time  I  for- 
gave him  for  it.  I  had  on  so  many  prior  occasions 
"played  possum"  that  the  doctor  naturally  attributed 
complex  and  unfathomable  motives  to  my  most  inno- 
cent acts.  For  a  long  time  he  seemed  to  think  that  I 
was  trying  to  capture  his  confidence,  win  the  privilege 

203 


204  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

of  an  unlimited  parole,  and  so  effect  my  escape.  Doubt- 
less he  had  not  forgotten  the  several  plans  for  escape 
which  I  had  dallied  with  and  bragged  about  while  in 
the  violent  ward. 

Though  I  was  granted  considerable  liberty  during  the 
months  of  April,  May,  and  June,  1903,  not  until  July 
did  I  enjoy  a  so-called  unlimited  parole  which  enabled 
me  to  walk  about  the  neighboring  city  unattended.  My 
privileges  were  granted  so  gradually  that  these  first 
tastes  of  regained  freedom,  though  delightful,  were  not 
so  thrilling  as  one  might  imagine.  I  took  everything  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and,  except  when  I  deliberately 
analyzed  my  feelings,  was  scarcely  conscious  of  my 
former  deprivations. 

This  power  to  forget  the  past — or  recall  it  only  at  will 
— has  contributed  much  to  my  happiness.  Some  of 
those  who  have  suffered  experiences  such  as  mine  are 
prone  to  brood  upon  them,  and  I  cannot  but  attrib- 
ute my  happy  immunity  from  unpleasant  memories 
to  the  fact  that  I  have  viewed  my  own  case  much  as  a 
physician  might  view  that  of  a  patient.  My  past  is  a 
thing  apart.  I  can  examine  this  or  that  phase  of  it  in  the 
clarifying  and  comforting  light  of  reason,  under  a  mem- 
ory rendered  somewhat  microscopic.  And  I  am  further 
compensated  by  the  belief  that  I  have  a  distinct  mission 
in  life — a  chance  for  usefulness  that  might  never  have 
been  mine  had  I  enjoyed  unbroken  health  and  uninter- 
rupted liberty. 

The  last  few  months  of  my  life  in  the  hospital  were 
much  alike,  save  that  each  succeeding  one  brought  with 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  205 

it  an  increased  amount  of  liberty.  My  hours  now  passed 
pleasantly.  Time  did  not  drag,  for  I  was  engaged  upon 
some  enterprise  every  minute.  I  would  draw,  read, 
write,  or  talk.  If  any  feeling  was  dominant,  it  was  my 
feeling  for  art;  and  I  read  with  avidity  books  on  the 
technique  of  that  subject.  Strange  as  it  may  seem, 
however,  the  moment  I  again  found  myself  in  the  world 
of  business  my  desire  to  become  an  artist  died  almost  as 
suddenly  as  it  had  been  born.  Though  my  artistic 
ambition  was  clearly  an  outgrowth  of  my  abnormal 
condition,  and  languished  when  normality  asserted  itself, 
I  am  inclined  to  believe  I  should  even  now  take  a  lively 
interest  in  the  study  of  art  if  I  were  so  situated  as  to  be 
deprived  of  a  free  choice  of  my  activities.  The  use 
of  words  later  enthralled  me  because  so  eminently  suited 
to  my  purposes. 

During  the  summer  of  1903,  friends  and  relatives 
often  called  to  see  me.  The  talks  we  had  were  of  great 
and  lasting  benefit  to  me.  Though  I  had  rid  myself 
of  my  more  extravagant  and  impossible  delusions  of 
grandeur — flying-machines  and  the  like — I  still  discussed 
with  intense  earnestness  other  schemes,  which,  though 
allied  to  delusions  of  grandeur,  were,  in  truth,  still  more 
closely  allied  to  sanity  itself.  My  talk  was  of  that  high, 
but  perhaps  suspicious  type  in  which  Imagination  over- 
rules Common  Sense.  Lingering  delusions,  as  it  were, 
made  great  projects  seem  easy.  That  they  were  at 
least  feasible  under  certain  conditions,  my  mentors 
admitted.  Only  I  was  in  an  abnormal  hurry  to  pro- 
duce results.     Work  that  I  later  realized  could  not  be 


206  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

accomplished  in  less  than  five  or  ten  years,  if,  indeed, 
in  a  lifetime,  I  then  believed  could  be  accomplished  in  a 
year  or  two,  and  by  me  single-handed.  Had  I  had 
none  but  mentally  unbalanced  people  to  talk  with,  I 
might  have  continued  to  cherish  a  distorted  perspective. 
It  was  the  unanimity  of  sane  opinions  that  helped  me 
to  correct  my  own  views;  and  I  am  confident  that  each 
talk  with  relatives  and  friends  hastened  my  return  to 
normality. 

Though  I  was  not  discharged  from  the  State  Hospital 
until  September  ioth,  1903,  during  the  preceding  month 
I  visited  my  home  several  times,  once  for  three  days. 
These  trips  were  not  only  interesting,  but  steadying  in 
effect.  I  willingly  returned  to  the  hospital  when  my 
parole  expired.  Though  several  friends  expressed  sur- 
prise at  this  willingness  to  enter  again  an  institution 
where  I  had  experienced  so  many  hardships,  to  me  my 
temporary  return  was  not  in  the  least  irksome.  As  I 
had  penetrated  and  conquered  the  mysteries  of  that  dark 
side  of  life,  it  no  longer  held  any  terrors  for  me.  Nor 
does  it  to  this  day.  I  can  contemplate  the  future  with 
a  greater  degree  of  complacency  than  can  some  of  those 
whose  lot  in  life  has  been  uniformly  fortunate.  In  fact,  I 
said  at  that  time  that,  should  my  condition  ever  demand 
it,  I  would  again  enter  a  hospital  for  the  insane,  quite  as 
willingly  as  the  average  person  now  enters  a  hospital 
for  the  treatment  of  bodily  ailments. 

It  was  in  this  complacent  and  confident  mood,  and 
without  any  sharp  line  of  transition,  that  I  again  began 
life  in  my  old  world  of  companionship  and  of  business. 


XXVIII 

For  the  first  month  of  regained  freedom  I  remained  at 
home.  These  weeks  were  interesting.  Scarcely  a  day 
passed  that  I  did  not  meet  several  former  friends  and 
acquaintances  who  greeted  me  as  one  risen  from  the 
dead.  And  well  they  might,  for  my  three-year  trip 
among  the  worlds — rather  than  around  the  world — was 
suggestive  of  complete  separation  from  the  everyday 
life  of  the  multitude.  One  profound  impression  which 
I  received  at  this  time  was  of  the  uniform  delicacy  of 
feeling  exhibited  by  my  well-wishers.  In  no  instance 
that  I  can  recall  was  a  direct  reference  made  to  the 
nature  of  my  recent  illness,  until  I  had  first  made  some 
remark  indicating  that  I  was  not  averse  to  discussing  it. 
There  was  an  evident  effort  on  the  part  of  friends  and 
acquaintances  to  avoid  a  subject  which  they  naturally 
supposed  I  wished  to  forget.  Knowing  that  their 
studied  avoidance  of  a  delicate  subject  was  inspired  by 
a  thoughtful  consideration,  rather  than  a  lack  of  interest, 
I  invariably  forced  the  conversation  along  a  line  calcu- 
lated to  satisfy  a  suppressed,  but  perfectly  proper,  curi- 
osity which  I  seldom  failed  to  detect.  My  decision  to 
stand  on  my  past  and  look  the  future  in  the  face  has, 
I  believe,  contributed  much  to  my  own  happiness,  and, 
more  than  anything  else,  enabled  my  friends  to  view  my 

207 


208  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

past  as  I  myself  do.  By  frankly  referring  to  my  illness, 
I  put  my  friends  and  acquaintances  at  ease,  and  at 
a  stroke  rid  them  of  that  constraint  which  one  must 
feel  in  the  presence  of  a  person  constantly  in  danger  of 
being  hurt  by  a  chance  allusion  to  an  unhappy  occur- 
rence. 

I  have  said  much  about  the  obligation  of  the  sane  in 
reference  to  easing  the  burdens  of  those  committed  to 
institutions.  I  might  say  almost  as  much  about  the 
attitude  of  the  public  toward  those  who  survive  such 
a  period  of  exile,  restored,  but  branded  with  a  suspicion 
which  only  time  can  efface.  Though  a  former  patient 
receives  personal  consideration,  he  finds  it  difficult  to 
obtain  employment.  No  fair-minded  man  can  find 
fault  with  this  condition  of  affairs,  for  an  inherent  dread 
of  insanity  leads  to  distrust  of  one  who  has  had  a  mental 
breakdown.  Nevertheless,  the  attitude  is  mistaken. 
Perhaps  one  reason  for  this  lack  of  confidence  is  to 
be  found  in  the  lack  of  confidence  which  a  former 
patient  often  feels  in  himself.  Confidence  begets  con- 
fidence, and  those  men  and  women  who  survive  mental 
illness  should  attack  their  problem  as  though  their 
absence  had  been  occasioned  by  any  one  of  the  many 
circumstances  which  may  interrupt  the  career  of  a 
person  whose  mind  has  never  been  other  than  sound. 
I  can  testify  to  the  efficacy  of  this  course,  for  it  is  the 
one  I  pursued.  And  I  think  that  I  have  thus  far  met 
with  as  great  a  degree  of  success  as  I  might  have  reason- 
ably expected  had  my  career  never  been  all  but  fatally 
interrupted. 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  209 

Discharged  from  the  State  Hospital  in  September, 
1903,  late  in  October  of  that  same  year  I  went  to  New- 
York.  Primarily  my  purpose  was  to  study  art.  I 
even  went  so  far  as  to  gather  information  regarding  the 
several  schools;  and  had  not  my  artistic  ambition 
taken  wing,  I  might  have  worked  for  recognition  in  a 
field  where  so  many  strive  in  vain.  But  my  business 
instinct,  revivified  by  the  commercially  surcharged 
atmosphere  of  New  York,  soon  gained  sway,  and 
within  three  months  I  had  secured  a  position  with  the 
same  firm  for  which  I  had  worked  when  I  first  went  to 
New  York  six  years  earlier.  It  was  by  the  merest 
chance  that  I  made  this  most  fortunate  business  con- 
nection. By  no  stretch  of  my  rather  elastic  imagination 
can  I  even  now  picture  a  situation  that  would,  at  one 
and  the  same  time,  have  so  perfectly  afforded  a  means 
of  livelihood,  leisure  in  which  to  indulge  my  longing  to 
write  the  story  of  my  experiences,  and  an  opportunity 
to  further  my  humanitarian  project. 

Though  persons  discharged  from  mental  hospitals 
are  usually  able  to  secure,  without  much  difficulty,  work 
as  unskilled  laborers,  or  positions  where  the  responsi- 
bility is  slight,  it  is  often  next  to  impossible  for  them  to 
secure  positions  of  trust.  During  the  negotiations  which 
led  to  my  employment,  I  was  in  no  suppliant  mood.  If 
anything,  I  was  quite  the  reverse;  and  as  I  have  since 
learned,  I  imposed  terms  with  an  assurance  so  sublime 
that  any  less  degree  of  audacity  might  have  put  an  end 
to  the  negotiations  then  and  there.  But  the  man  with 
whom  I  was  dealing  was  not  only  broad-minded,  he  was 


210  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

sagacious.  He  recognized  immediately  such  an  ability 
to  take  care  of  my  own  interests  as  argued  an  ability  to 
protect  those  of  his  firm.  But  this  alone  would  not  have 
induced  the  average  business  man  to  employ  me  under 
the  circumstances.  It  was  the  common-sense  and 
rational  attitude  of  my  employer  toward  mental  illness 
which  determined  the  issue.  This  view,  which  is,  indeed, 
exceptional  to-day,  will  one  day  (within  a  few  genera- 
tions, I  believe)  be  too  commonplace  to  deserve  special 
mention.  As  this  man  tersely  expressed  it:  "When  an 
employe  is  ill,  he's  ill,  and  it  makes  no  difference  to  me 
whether  he  goes  to  a  general  hospital  or  a  hospital  for 
the  insane.  Should  you  ever  find  yourself  in  need  of 
treatment  or  rest,  I  want  you  to  feel  that  you  can  take 
it  when  and  where  you  please,  and  work  for  us  again 
when  you  are  able." 

Dealing  almost  exclusively  with  bankers,  for  that 
was  the  nature  of  my  work,  I  enjoyed  almost  as  much 
leisure  for  reading  and  trying  to  learn  how  to  write  as  I 
should  have  enjoyed  had  I  had  an  assured  income  that 
would  have  enabled  me  to  devote  my  entire  time  to 
these  pursuits.  And  so  congenial  did  my  work  prove, 
and  so  many  places  of  interest  did  I  visit,  that  I  might 
rather  have  been  classed  as  a  "commercial  tourist"  than 
as  a  commercial  traveler.  To  view  almost  all  of  the 
natural  wonders  and  places  of  historic  interest  east  of 
the  Mississippi,  and  many  west  of  it;  to  meet  and  know 
representative  men  and  women;  to  enjoy  an  almost 
uninterrupted  leisure,  and  at  the  same  time  earn  a 
livelihood — these  advantages  bear  me  out  in  the  feeling 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  21 1 

that  in  securing  the  position  I  did,  at  the  time  I  did,  I 
enjoyed  one  of  those  rare  compensations  which  Fate 
sometimes  bestows  upon  those  who  survive  unusual 
adversity. 


xxrx 

After  again  becoming  a  free  man,  my  mind  would 
not  abandon  the  miserable  ones  whom  I  had  left  behind. 
I  thought  with  horror  that  my  reason  had  been  threat- 
ened and  baffled  at  every  turn.  Without  malice  toward 
those  who  had  had  me  in  charge,  I  yet  looked  with 
abhorrence  upon  the  system  by  which  I  had  been  treated. 
But  I  realized  that  I  could  not  successfully  advocate 
reforms  in  hospital  management  until  I  had  first  proved 
to  relatives  and  friends  my  ability  to  earn  a  living. 
And  I  knew  that,  after  securing  a  position  in  the  business 
world,  I  must  first  satisfy  my  employers  before  I  could 
hope  to  persuade  others  to  join  me  in  prosecuting  the 
reforms  I  had  at  heart.  Consequently,  during  the  first 
year  of  my  renewed  business  activity  (the  year  1904),  I 
held  my  humanitarian  project  in  abeyance  and  gave 
all  my  executive  energy  to  my  business  duties.  During 
the  first  half  of  that  year  I  gave  but  little  time  to  reading 
and  writing,  and  none  at  all  to  drawing.  In  a  tentative 
way,  however,  I  did  occasionaUy  discuss  my  project  with 
intimate  friends;  but  I  spoke  of  its  consummation  as 
a  thing  of  the  uncertain  future.  At  that  time,  though 
confident  of  accomplishing  my  set  purpose,  I  believed 
I  should  be  fortunate  if  my  projected  book  were  pub- 
lished before  my  fortieth  year.  That  I  was  able  to 
publish  it  eight  years  earlier  was  due  to  one  of  those 

212 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  213 

unlooked  for  combinations  of  circumstances  which  some- 
times cause  a  hurried  change  of  plans. 

Late  in  the  autumn  of  1904,  a  slight  illness  detained 
me  for  two  weeks  in  a  city  several  hundred  miles  from 
home.  The  illness  itself  amounted  to  little,  and,  so  far 
as  I  know,  had  no  direct  bearing  on  later  results,  except 
that,  in  giving  me  an  enforced  vacation,  it  afforded  me 
an  opportunity  to  read  several  of  the  world's  great  books. 
One  of  these  was  "Les  Miserables."  It  made  a  deep 
impression  on  me,  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe  it  started 
a  train  of  thought  which  gradually  grew  into  a  purpose 
so  all-absorbing  that  I  might  have  been  overwhelmed 
by  it,  had  not  my  over-active  imagination  been  brought 
to  bay  by  another's  common  sense.  Hugo's  plea  for 
suffering  Humanity — for  the  world's  miserable — struck 
a  responsive  chord  within  me.  Not  only  did  it  revive 
my  latent  desire  to  help  the  afflicted;  it  did  more.  It 
aroused  a  consuming  desire  to  emulate  Hugo  himself, 
by  writing  a  book  which  should  arouse  sympathy  for 
and  interest  in  that  class  of  unfortunates  in  whose 
behalf  I  felt  it  my  peculiar  right  and  duty  to  speak.  I 
question  whether  any  one  ever  read  "Les  Miserables" 
with  keener  feeling.  By  day  I  read  the  story  until  my 
head  ached;  by  night  I  dreamed  of  it. 

To  resolve  to  write  a  book  is  one  thing;  to  write  it — 
fortunately  for  the  public — is  quite  another.  Though  I 
wrote  letters  with  ease,  I  soon  discovered  that  I  knew 
nothing  of  the  vigils  or  methods  of  writing  a  book.  Even 
then  I  did  not  attempt  to  predict  just  when  I  should 
begin  to  commit  my  story  to  paper.    But,  a  month  later, 


214  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  member  of  the  firm  in  whose  employ  I  was  made  a 
remark  which  acted  as  a  sudden  spur.  One  day,  while 
discussing  the  business  situation  with  me,  he  informed 
me  that  my  work  had  convinced  him  that  he  had  made 
no  mistake  in  re-employing  me  when  he  did.  Naturally 
I  was  pleased.  I  had  vindicated  his  judgment  sooner 
than  I  had  hoped.  Aside  from  appreciating  and  remem- 
bering his  compliment,  at  the  time  I  paid  no  more  atten- 
tion to  it.  Not  until  a  fortnight  later  did  the  force  of  his 
remark  exert  any  peculiar  influence  on  my  plans. 
During  that  time  it  apparently  penetrated  to  some 
subconscious  part  of  me — a  part  which,  on  prior  occa- 
sions, had  assumed  such  authority  as  to  dominate 
my  whole  being.  But,  in  this  instance,  the  part  that 
became  dominant  did  not  exert  an  unruly  or  even  un- 
welcome influence.  Full  of  interest  in  my  business 
affairs  one  week,  the  next  I  not  only  had  no  interest  in 
them,  but  I  had  begun  even  to  dislike  them.  From  a 
matter-of-fact  man  of  business  I  was  transformed  into 
a  man  whose  all-absorbing  thought  was  the  amelioration 
of  suffering  among  the  afflicted  insane.  Travelling  on 
this  high  plane  of  ideal  humanitarianism,  I  could  get 
none  but  a  distorted  and  dissatisfying  view  of  the  life 
I  must  lead  if  I  should  continue  to  devote  my  time  to  the 
comparatively  deadening  routine  of  commercial  affairs. 
Thus  it  was  inevitable  that  I  should  focus  my  atten- 
tion on  my  humanitarian  project.  During  the  last  week 
of  December  I  sought  ammunition  by  making  a  visit  to 
two  of  the  institutions  where  I  had  once  been  a  patient. 
I  went  there  to  discuss  certain  phases  of  the  subject  of 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  215 

reform  with  the  doctors  in  authority.  I  was  politely 
received  and  listened  to  with  a  degree  of  deference 
which  was,  indeed,  gratifying.  Though  I  realized  that 
I  was  rather  intense  on  the  subject  of  reform,  I  did  not 
have  that  clear  insight  into  my  state  of  mind  which  the 
doctors  had.  Indeed,  I  believe  that  only  those  expert 
in  the  detection  of  symptoms  of  a  slightly  disturbed 
mental  condition  could  possibly  have  observed  any- 
thing abnormal  about  me  at  that  time.  Only  when  I 
discussed  my  fond  project  of  reform  did  I  betray  an 
abnormal  stress  of  feeling.  I  could  talk  as  convincingly 
about  business  as  I  had  at  any  time  in  my  life ;  for  even 
at  the  height  of  this  wave  of  enthusiasm  I  dealt  at  length 
with  a  certain  banker  who  finally  placed  with  my 
employers  a  large  contract. 

After  conferring  with  the  doctors,  or  rather — as  it 
proved — exhibiting  myself  to  them,  I  returned  to  New 
Haven  and  discussed  my  project  with  the  President 
of  Yale  University.  He  listened  patiently — he  could 
scarcely  do  otherwise — and  did  me  the  great  favor  of 
interposing  his  judgment  at  a  time  when  I  might  have 
made  a  false  move.  I  told  him  that  I  intended  to  visit 
Washington  at  once,  to  enlist  the  aid  of  President  Roose- 
velt; also  that  of  Mr.  Hay,  Secretary  of  State.  Mr. 
Hadley  tactfully  advised  me  not  to  approach  them 
until  I  had  more  thoroughly  crystallized  my  ideas. 
His  wise  suggestion  I  had  the  wisdom  to  adopt. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  New  York,  and  on  January 
1st,  1905,  I  began  to  write.  Within  two  days  I  had 
written  about   fifteen   thousand   words — for  the  most 


216  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

part  on  the  subject  of  reforms  and  how  to  effect  them. 
One  of  the  documents  prepared  at  that  time  con- 
tained grandiloquent  passages  that  were  a  portent  of 
coming  events — though  I  was  ignorant  of  the  fact. 
In  writing  about  my  project  I  said,  "Whether  I  am  a 
tool  of  God  or  a  toy  of  the  devil,  time  alone  will  tell; 
but  there  will  be  no  misunderstanding  Time's  answer  if 
I  succeed  in  doing  one-tenth  of  the  good  things  I 
hope  to  accomplish.  .  .  .  Anything  which  is  feasible 
in  this  philanthropic  age  can  easily  be  put  into  prac- 
tice. ...  A  listener  gets  the  impression  that  I  hope 
to  do  a  hundred  years'  work  in  a  day.  They  are  wrong 
there,  for  I'm  not  so  in  love  with  work — as  such.  I 
would  like  though  to  interest  so  many  people  in  the 
accomplishment  of  my  purpose  that  one  hundred  years' 
work  might  be  done  in  a  fraction  of  that  time.  Hearty 
co-operation  brings  quick  results,  and  once  you  start  a 
wave  of  enthusiasm  in  a  sea  of  humanity,  and  have  for 
the  base  of  that  wave  a  humanitarian  project  of  great 
breadth,  it  will  travel  with  irresistible  and  ever-increasing 
impulse  to  the  ends  of  the  earth — which  is  far  enough. 

According  to  Dr.   ,   many  of   my  ideas  regarding 

the  solution  of  the  problem  under  consideration  are 
years  and  years  in  advance  of  the  times.  I  agree  with 
him,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not  put  'the 
times'  on  board  the  express  train  of  progress  and  give 
civilization  a  boost  to  a  higher  level,  until  it  finally 
lands  on  a  plateau  where  performance  and  perfection 
will  be  synonymous  terms." 

Referring  to  the  betterment  of  conditions,   I  said, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  217 

"  And  this  improvement  can  never  be  brought  about 
without  some  central  organization  by  means  of  which  the 
best  ideas  in  the  world  may  be  crystallized  and  passed 
along  to  those  in  charge  of  this  army  of  afflicted  ones. 
The  methods  to  be  used  to  bring  about  these  results  must 
be  placed  on  the  same  high  level  as  the  idea  itself. 
No  yellow  journalism  or  other  sensational  means  should 
be  resorted  to.  Let  the  thing  be  worked  up  secretly  and 
confidentially  by  a  small  number  of  men  who  know  then- 
business.  Then  when  the  very  best  plan  has  been 
formulated  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  desired  results, 
and  men  of  money  have  been  found  to  support  the 
movement  until  it  can  take  care  of  itself,  announce 
to  the  world  in  a  dignified  and  effective  manner  the 
organization  and  aims  of  the  society,  the  name  of  which 
shall  be  — ,  decided  later.  ...  To  start  the  movement 
will  not  require  a  whole  lot  of  money.  It  will  be  started 
modestly  and  as  financial  resources  of  the  society 
increase,  the  field  will  be  broadened. "  .  .  .  "  The  abuses 
and  correction  of  same  is  a  mere  detail  in  the  general 
scheme."  .  .  .  "It  is  too  early  to  try  to  interest  anyone 
in  this  scheme  of  preventing  breakdowns,  as  there  are 
other  things  of  more  importance  to  be  brought  about 
first — but  it  will  surely  come  in  time." 

"  '  Uncle  Tom's  Cabin/  "  I  continued,  "  had  a  very 
decided  effect  on  the  question  of  slavery  of  the  negro 
race.  Why  cannot  a  book  be  written  which  will  free 
the  helpless  slaves  of  all  creeds  and  colors  confined  to-day 
in  the  asylums  and  sanitariums  throughout  the  world? 
That  is,  free  them  from  unnecessary  abuses  to  which 


218  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

they  are  now  subjected.  Such  a  book,  I  believe,  can  be 
written  and  I  trust  that  I  may  be  permitted  to  live  till 
I  am  wise  enough  to  write  it.  Such  a  book  might 
change  the  attitude  of  the  public  towards  those  who 
are  unfortunate  enough  to  have  the  stigma  of  mental 
incompetency  put  upon  them.  Of  course,  an  insane 
man  is  an  insane  man  and  while  insane  should  be  placed 
in  an  institution  for  treatment,  but  when  that  man 
comes  out  he  should  be  as  free  from  all  taint  as  the  man 
is  who  recovers  from  a  contagious  disease  and  again 
takes  his  place  in  society."  In  conclusion,  I  said, 
"  From  a  scientific  point  of  view  there  is  a  great  field  for 
research.  .  .  .  Cannot  some  of  the  causes  be  discovered 
and  perhaps  done  away  with,  thereby  saving  the  lives 
of  many — and  millions  in  money?  It  may  come  about 
that  some  day  something  will  be  found  which  will  pre- 
vent a  complete  and  incurable  mental  breakdown.  .  .  . " 

Thus  did  I,  as  revealed  by  these  rather  crude,  unre- 
vised  quotations,  somewhat  prophetically,  if  extrav- 
agantly, box  the  compass  that  later  guided  the  ship  of 
my  hopes  (not  one  of  my  phantom  ships)  into  a  safe 
channel,  and  later  into  a  safe  harbor. 

By  way  of  mental  diversion  during  these  creative 
days  at  the  Yale  Club,  I  wrote  personal  letters  to 
intimate  friends.  One  of  these  produced  a  result  un- 
looked  for.  There  were  about  it  compromising  ear- 
marks which  the  friend  to  whom  it  was  sent  recognized. 
In  it  I  said  that  I  intended  to  approach  a  certain 
man  of  wealth  and  influence  who  lived  in  New  York, 
with  a  view  to  securing  some  action  that  would  lead  to 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  219 

reform.  That  was  enough.  My  friend  showed  the 
letter  to  my  brother — the  one  who  had  acted  as  my  con- 
servator. He  knew  at  once  that  I  was  in  an  excited 
mental  condition.  But  he  could  not  very  well  judge 
the  degree  of  the  excitement;  for  when  I  had  last  talked 
with  him  a  week  earlier,  I  had  not  discussed  my  larger 
plans.  Business  affairs  and  my  hope  for  business  ad- 
vancement had  then  alone  interested  me. 

I  talked  with  President  Hadley  on  Friday;  Saturday 
I  went  to  New  York;  Sunday  and  Monday  I  spent  at 
the  Yale  Club,  writing;  Tuesday,  this  telltale  letter 
fell  under  the  prescient  eye  of  my  brother.  On  that  day 
he  at  once  got  in  touch  with  me  by  telephone.  We 
briefly  discussed  the  situation.  He  did  not  intimate 
that  he  believed  me  to  be  in  elation.  He  simply  urged 
me  not  to  attempt  to  interest  anyone  in  my  project 
until  I  had  first  returned  to  New  Haven  and  talked 
with  him.  Now  I  had  already  gone  so  far  as  to  invite 
my  employers  to  dine  with  me  that  very  night  at  the 
Yale  Club  for  the  purpose  of  informing  them  of  my  plans. 
This  I  did,  believing  it  to  be  only  fair  that  they  should 
know  what  I  intended  to  do,  so  that  they  might  dispense 
with  my  services  should  they  feel  that  my  plans  would 
in  any  way  impair  my  usefulness  as  an  employe.  Of 
this  dinner  engagement,  therefore,  I  told  my  brother. 
But  so  insistently  did  he  urge  me  to  defer  any  such 
conference  as  I  proposed  until  I  had  talked  with  him 
that,  although  it  was  too  late  to  break  the  dinner  engage- 
ment, I  agreed  to  avoid,  if  possible,  any  reference  to  my 
project.     I  also  agreed  to  return  home  the  next  day. 


220  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

That  night  my  guests  honored  me  as  agreed.  For  an 
hour  or  two  we  discussed  business  conditions  and  affairs 
in  general.  Then,  one  of  them  referred  pointedly  to  my 
implied  promise  to  unburden  myself  on  a  certain  sub- 
ject, the  nature  of  which  he  did  not  at  the  time  know. 
I  immediately  decided  that  it  would  be  best  to  "take 
the  bull  by  the  horns,"  submit  my  plans,  and,  if  neces- 
sary, sever  my  connection  with  the  firm,  should  its  mem- 
bers force  me  to  choose  (as  I  put  it)  between  themselves 
and  Humanity.  I  then  proceeded  to  unfold  my  scheme; 
and,  though  I  may  have  exhibited  a  decided  intensity  of 
feeling  during  my  discourse,  at  no  time,  I  believe,  did  I 
overstep  the  bounds  of  what  appeared  to  be  sane  enthusi- 
asm. My  employers  agreed  that  my  purpose  was  com- 
mendable— that  no  doubt  I  could  and  would  eventually 
be  able  to  do  much  for  those  I  had  left  behind  in  a  dur- 
ance I  so  well  knew  to  be  vile.  Their  one  warning  was 
that  I  seemed  in  too  great  a  hurry.  They  expressed  the 
opinion  that  I  had  not  been  long  enough  re-established 
in  business  to  be  able  to  persuade  people  of  wealth  and 
influence  to  take  hold  of  my  project.  And  one  of  my 
guests  very  aptly  observed  that  I  could  not  afford  to  be  a 
philanthropist,  which  objection  I  met  by  saying  that  all  I 
intended  to  do  was  to  supply  ideas  for  those  who  could 
afford  to  apply  them.  The  conference  ended  satisfac- 
torily. My  employers  disclaimed  any  personal  objection 
to  my  proceeding  with  my  project,  if  I  would,  and  yet 
remaining  in  their  employ.  They  simply  urged  me  to 
"go  slow."  "Wait  until  you're  forty,"  one  of  them  said. 
I  then  thought  that  I  might  do  so.    And  perhaps  I  should 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  221 

have  waited  so  long,  had  not  the  events  of  the  next  two 
days  put  me  on  the  right  road  to  an  earlier  execution  of 
my  cherished  plans. 

The  next  day,  January  4th,  true  to  my  word,  I  went 
home.  That  night  I  had  a  long  talk  with  my  brother. 
I  did  not  suspect  that  a  man  like  myself,  capable  of 
dealing  with  bankers  and  talking  for  several  consecu- 
tive hours  with  his  employers  without  arousing  their  sus- 
picion as  to  his  mental  condition,  was  to  be  suspected 
by  his  own  relatives.  Nor,  indeed,  with  the  exception 
of  my  brother,  who  had  read  my  suspiciously  excellent 
letter,  were  any  of  my  relatives  disturbed;  and  he  did 
nothing  to  disabuse  my  assurance.  After  our  night 
conference  he  left  for  his  own  home,  casually  men- 
tioning that  he  would  see  me  again  the  next  morning. 
That  pleased  me,  for  I  was  in  a  talkative  mood  and  craved 
an  interested  listener. 

When  my  brother  returned  the  next  morning,  I  will- 
ingly accepted  his  invitation  to  go  with  him  to  his 
office,  where  we  could  talk  without  fear  of  interruption. 
Arrived  there,  I  calmly  sat  down  and  prepared  to  prove 
my  whole  case.  I  had  scarcely  "opened  fire"  when 
in  walked  a  stranger — a  strapping  fellow,  to  whom  my 
brother  immediately  introduced  me.  I  instinctively 
felt  that  it  was  by  no  mere  chance  that  this  third  party 
had  so  suddenly  appeared.  My  eyes  at  once  took  in  the 
dark  blue  trousers  worn  by  the  otherwise  convention- 
ally dressed  stranger.  That  was  enough.  The  situa- 
tion became  so  clear  that  the  explanations  which 
followed  were  superfluous.     In  a  word,   I  was  under 


222  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

arrest,  or  in  imminent  danger  of  being  arrested.  To 
say  that  I  was  not  in  the  least  disconcerted  would 
scarcely  be  true,  for  I  had  not  divined  my  brother's 
clever  purpose  in  luring  me  to  his  office.  But  I  can  say, 
with  truth,  that  I  was  the  coolest  person  in  the  room. 
I  knew  what  I  should  do  next,  but  my  brother  and  the 
officer  of  the  law  could  only  guess.  The  fact  is  I  did 
nothing.  I  calmly  remained  seated,  awaiting  the  ver- 
dict which  I  well  knew  my  brother,  with  characteristic 
decision,  had  already  prepared.  With  considerable 
effort — for  the  situation,  he  has  since  told  me,  was  the 
most  trying  one  of  his  life — he  informed  me  that  on  the 
preceding  day  he  had  talked  with  the  doctors  to  whom 
I  had  so  opportunely  exhibited  myself  a  week  earlier. 
All  agreed  that  I  was  in  a  state  of  elation  which  might  or 
might  not  become  more  pronounced.  They  had  advised 
that  I  be  persuaded  to  submit  voluntarily  to  treatment  in 
a  hospital,  or  that  I  be,  if  necessary,  forcibly  committed. 
On  this  advice  my  brother  had  proceeded  to  act.  And 
it  was  well  so;  for,  though  I  appreciated  the  fact  that 
I  was  by  no  means  in  a  normal  state  of  mind,  I  had  not  a 
clear  enough  insight  intp  my  condition  to  realize  that 
treatment  and  a  restricted  degree  of  liberty  were  what  I 
needed,  since  continued  freedom  might  further'  inflame 
an  imagination  already  overwrought. 

A  few  simple  statements  by  my  brother  convinced 
me  that  it  was  for  my  own  good  and  the  peace  of  mind 
of  my  relatives  that  I  should  temporarily  surrender  my 
freedom.  This  I  agreed  to  do.  Perhaps  the  presence 
of  two  hundred  pounds  of  brawn  and  muscle,  representing 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  223 

the  law,  lent  persuasiveness  to  my  brother's  words. 
In  fact,  I  did  assent  the  more  readily  because  I  admired 
the  thorough,  sane,  fair,  almost  artistic  manner  in  which 
my  brother  had  brought  me  to  bay.  I  am  inclined  to 
believe  that,  had  I  suspected  that  a  recommitment  was 
imminent,  I  should  have  tied  to  a  neighboring  State 
during  the  preceding  night.  Fortunately,  however,  the 
right  thing  was  done  in  the  right  way  at  the  right  time. 
Though  I  had  been  the  victim  of  a  clever  stratagem, 
not  for  one  moment  thereafter,  in  any  particular,  was  I 
deceived.  I  was  frankly  told  that  several  doctors  had 
pronounced  me  elated,  and  that  for  my  own  good  I  must 
submit  to  treatment.  I  was  allowed  to  choose  between  a 
probate  court  commitment  which  would  have  "  admitted 
me"  to  the  State  Hospital,  or  a  "  voluntary  commitment" 
which  would  enable  me  to  enter  the  large  private  hospital 
where  I  had  previously  passed  from  depression  to  elation, 
and  had  later  suffered  tortures.  I  naturally  chose  the 
more  desirable  of  the  two  disguised  blessings,  and  agreed 
to  start  at  once  for  the  private  hospital,  the  one  in 
which  I  had  been  when  depression  gave  way  to  elation. 
It  was  not  that  I  feared  again  to  enter  the  State  Hospital. 
I  simply  wished  to  avoid  the  publicity  which  necessarily 
would  have  followed,  for  at  that  time  the  statutes  of 
Connecticut  did  not  provide  for  voluntary  commitment 
to  the  state  hospitals.  Then,  too,  there  were  certain 
privileges  which  I  knew  I  could  not  enjoy  in  a  public 
institution.  Having  re-established  myself  in  society  and 
business  I  did  not  wish  to  forfeit  that  gain;  and  as  the 
doctors  believed  that  my  period  of  elation  would  be  short, 


224  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND   ITSELF 

it  would  have  been  sheer  folly  to  advertise  the  fact  that 
my  mental  health  had  again  fallen  under  suspicion. 

But  before  starting  for  the  hospital  I  imposed  certain 
conditions.  One  was  that  the  man  with  the  authori- 
tative trousers  should  walk  behind  at  such  a  distance 
that  no  friend  or  acquaintance  who  might  see  my  brother 
and  myself  would  suspect  that  I  was  under  guard;  the 
other  was  that  the  doctors  at  the  institution  should  agree 
to  grant  my  every  request,  no  matter  how  trivial,  so  long 
as  doing  so  could  in  no  way  work  to  my  own  injury.  My 
privileges  were  to  include  that  of  reading  and  writing  to 
my  heart's  content,  and  the  procuring  of  such  books  and 
supplies  as  my  fancy  might  dictate.  All  this  was  agreed 
to.  In  return  I  agreed  to  submit  to  the  surveillance  of 
an  attendant  when  I  went  outside  the  hospital  grounds. 
This  I  knew  would  contribute  to  the  peace  of  mind  of 
my  relatives,  who  naturally  could  not  rid  themselves 
of  the  fear  that  one  so  nearly  normal  as  myself  might 
take  it  into  his  head  to  leave  the  State  and  resist  further 
attempts  at  control.  As  I  felt  that  I  could  easily  elude 
my  keeper,  should  I  care  to  escape,  his  presence  also 
contributed  to  my  peace  of  mind,  for  I  argued  that  the 
ability  to  outwit  my  guard  would  atone  for  the  offence 
itself. 

I  then  started  for  the  hospital;  and  I  went  with  a  will- 
ingness surprising  even  to  myself.  A  cheerful  philosophy 
enabled  me  to  turn  an  apparently  disagreeable  situation 
into  one  that  was  positively  pleasing  to  me.  I  convinced 
myself  that  I  could  extract  more  real  enjoyment  from 
life  during  the  ensuing  weeks  within  the  walls  of  a 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  225 

" retreat"  than  I  could  in  the  world  outside.  My  one 
desire  was  to  write;  write,  write.  My  fingers  itched  for 
a  pen.  My  desire  to  write  was,  I  imagine,  as  irresistible 
as  is  the  desire  of  a  drunkard  for  his  dram.  And  the  act 
of  writing  resulted  in  an  intoxicating  pleasure  composed 
of  a  mingling  of  emotions  that  defies  analysis. 

That  I  should  so  calmly,  almost  eagerly,  enter  where 
devils  might  fear  to  tread  may  surprise  the  reader  who 
already  has  been  informed  of  the  cruel  treatment  I  had 
formerly  received  there.  I  feared  nothing,  for  I  knew 
all.  Having  seen  the  worst,  I  knew  how  to  avoid  the 
pitfalls  into  which,  during  my  first  experience  at  that 
hospital,  I  had  fallen  or  deliberately  walked.  I  was 
confident  that  I  should  suffer  no  abuse  or  injustice  so 
long  as  the  doctors  in  charge  should  live  up  to  their 
agreement  and  treat  me  with  unvarying  fairness.  This 
they  did,  and  my  quick  recovery  and  subsequent  discharge 
may  be  attributed  partly  to  this  cause.  The  assistant 
physicians  who  had  come  in  contact  with  me  during 
my  first  experience  in  this  hospital  were  no  longer  there. 
They  had  resigned  some  months  earlier,  shortly  after 
the  death  of  the  former  superintendent.  Thus  it  was 
that  I  started  with  a  clean  record,  free  from  those  prej- 
udices which  so  often  affect  the  judgment  of  a  hospital 
physician  who  has  treated  a  mental  patient  at  his  worst. 


XXX 

On  more  than  one  occasion  my  chameleonlike  tem- 
perament has  enabled  me  to  adjust  myself  to  new  condi- 
tions, but  never  has  it  served  me  better  than  it  did  at 
the  time  of  which  I  wrr'te.  A  free  man  on  New  Year's 
Day,  enjoying  the  pleasures  of  a  congenial  club  life, 
four  days  later  I  found  myself  again  under  the  lock  and 
key  of  an  institution  for  the  insane.  Never  had  I  enjoyed 
life  in  New  York  more  than  during  those  first  days  of 
that  new  year.  To  suffer  so  rude  a  change  was,  indeed, 
enough  to  arouse  a  feeling  of  discontent,  if  not  despair; 
yet,  aside  from  the  momentary  initial  shock,  my  con- 
tentment was  in  no  degree  diminished.  I  can  say  with 
truth  that  I  was  as  complacent  the  very  moment  I 
recrossed  the  threshold  of  that  "retreat"  as  I  had  been 
when  crossing  and  recrossing  at  will  the  threshold  of 
my  club. 

Of  everything  I  thought  and  did  during  the  interesting 
weeks  which  followed,  I  have  a  complete  record.  The 
moment  I  accepted  the  inevitable,  I  determined  to  spend 
my  time  to  good  advantage.  Knowing  from  experience 
that  I  must  observe  my  own  case,  if  I  was  to  have  any 
detailed  record  of  it,  I  provided  myself  in  advance  with 
notebooks.  In  these  I  recorded,  I  might  almost  say, 
my  every  thought  and  action.  The  sane  part  of  me, 
which   fortunately  was   dominant,   subjected  its   tem- 

226 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  227 

porarily  unruly  part  to  a  sort  of  scientific  scrutiny  and 
surveillance.  From  morning  till  night  I  dogged  the 
steps  of  my  restless  body  and  my  more  restless  imagina- 
tion. I  observed  the  physical  and  mental  symptoms 
which  I  knew  were  characteristic  of  elation.  An 
exquisite  light-heartedness,  an  exalted  sense  of  well- 
being,  my  pulse,  my  weight,  my  appetite — all  these  I 
observed  and  recorded  with  a  care  that  would  have  put 
to  the  blush  a  majority  of  the  doctors  in  charge  of 
mental  cases  in  institutions. 

But  this  record  of  symptoms,  though  minute,  was 
vague  compared  to  my  reckless  analysis  of  my  emotions. 
With  a  lack  of  reserve  characteristic  of  my  mood,  I 
described  the  joy  of  living,  which,  for  the  most  part,  then 
consisted  in  the  joy  of  writing.  And  even  now,  when  I 
reread  my  record,  I  feel  that  I  cannot  overstate  the 
pleasure  I  found  in  surrendering  myself  completely  to 
that  controlling  impulse.  The  excellence  of  my  com- 
position seemed  to  me  beyond  criticism.  And,  as  to  one 
in  a  state  of  elation,  things  are  pretty  much  as  they  seem, 
I  was  able  to  experience  the  subtle  delights  which,  I 
fancy,  thrill  the  soul  of  a  master.  During  this  month 
of  elation  I  wrote  words  enough  to  fill  a  book  nearly  as 
large  as  this  one.  Having  found  that  each  filling  of  my 
fountain  pen  was  sufficient  for  the  writing  of  about 
twenty-eight  hundred  words,  I  kept  a  record  of  the 
number  of  times  I  filled  it.  This  minute  calculation  I 
carried  to  an  extreme.  If  I  wrote  for  fifty-nine  minutes, 
and  then  read  for  seventeen,  those  facts  I  recorded.  Thus, 
in  my  diary  and  out  of  it,  I  wrote  and  wrote  until  the 


228  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

tips  of  my  thumb  and  forefinger  grew  numb.  As  this 
numbness  increased  and  general  weariness  of  the  hand 
set  in,  there  came  a  gradual  flagging  of  my  creative 
impulse  until  a  very  normal  unproductivity  supervened. 

The  reader  may  well  wonder  in  what  my  so-called 
insanity  at  this  time  consisted.  Had  I  any  of  those 
impracticable  delusions  which  had  characterized  my 
former  period  of  elation?  No,  not  one — unless  an 
unreasonable  haste  to  achieve  my  ambitions  may  be 
counted  a  delusion.  My  attention  simply  focussed 
itself  on  my  project.  All  other  considerations  seemed 
of  little  moment.  My  interest  in  business  waned  to 
the  vanishing  point.  Yet  one  thing  should  be  noted: 
I  did  deliberately  devote  many  hours  to  the  considera- 
tion of  business  affairs.  Realizing  that  one  way  to 
overcome  an  absorbing  impulse  is  to  divide  the  attention, 
I  wrote  a  brief  of  the  arguments  I  had  often  used  when 
talking  with  bankers.  In  this  way  I  was  able  to  convince 
the  doctors  that  my  intense  interest  in  literature  and 
reform  would  soon  spend  itself. 

A  consuming  desire  to  effect  reforms  had  been  the 
determining  factor  when  I  calmly  weighed  the  situation 
with  a  view  to  making  the  best  possible  use  of  my  impulse 
to  write.  The  events  of  the  immediate  past  had  con- 
vinced me  that  I  could  not  hope  to  interest  people  of 
wealth  and  influence  in  my  humanitarian  project  until 
I  had  some  definite  plan  to  submit  for  their  leisurely 
consideration.  Further,  I  had  discovered  that  an 
attempt  to  approach  them  directly  disturbed  my  rela- 
tives and  friends,  who  had  not  yet  learned  to  dissociate 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  229 

present  intentions  from  past  performances.  I  had, 
therefore,  determined  to  drill  myself  in  the  art  of  com- 
position to  the  end  that  I  might  write  a  story  of  my  life 
which  would  merit  publication.  I  felt  that  such  a  book, 
once  written,  would  do  its  own  work,  regardless  of  my 
subsequent  fortunes.  Other  books  had  spoken  even 
from  the  grave;  why  should  not  my  book  so  speak — if 
necessary? 

With  this  thought  in  mind  I  began  not  only  to  read 
and  write,  but  to  test  my  impulse  in  order  that  I  might 
discover  if  it  were  a  part  of  my  very  being,  an  abnormal 
impulse,  or  a  mere  whim.  I  reasoned  that  to  compare 
my  own  feelings  toward  literature,  and  my  emotions 
experienced  in  the  heat  of  composition,  with  the 
recorded  feelings  of  successful  men  of  letters,  would  give 
me  a  clue  to  the  truth  on  this  question.  At  this 
time  I  read  several  books  that  could  have  served  as  a 
basis  for  my  deductions,  but  only  one  of  them  did  I 
have  time  to  analyze  and  note  in  my  diary.  That  one 
was,  "Wit  and  Wisdom  of  the  Earl  of  Beaconsfleld." 
The  following  passages  from  the  pen  of  Disraeli  I  trans- 
cribed in  my  diary  with  occasional  comment. 

"Remember  who  you  are,  and  also  that  it  is  your  duty 
to  excel.  Providence  has  given  you  a  great  lot.  Think 
ever  that  you  are  born  to  perform  great  duties."  This 
I  interpreted  in  much  the  same  spirit  that  I  had  inter- 
preted the  45  th  Psalm  on  an  ear  her  occasion. 

"It  was  that  noble  ambition,  the  highest  and  best, 
that  must  be  born  in  the  heart,  and  organized  in  the 
brain,  which  will  not  let  a  man  be  content  unless  his 


230  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

intellectual  power  is  recognized  by  his  race,  and  desires 
that  it  should  contribute  to  their  welfare." 

"  Authors — the  creators  of  opinion. " 

"What  appear  to  be  calamities  are  often  the  sources 
of  fortune." 

"Change  is  inevitable  in  a  progressive  country. 
Change  is  constant."  ("Then  why,"  was  my  recorded 
comment,  "cannot  the  changes  I  propose  to  bring 
about,  be  brought  about?") 

"The  author  is,  as  we  must  ever  remember,  of  peculiar 
organization.  He  is  a  being  born  with  a  predisposition 
which  with  him  is  irresistible,  the  bent  of  which  he  cannot 
in  any  way  avoid,  whether  it  directs  him  to  the  abstruse 
researches  of  erudition  or  induces  him  to  mount  into  the 
fervid  and  turbulent  atmosphere  of  imagination." 

"This,"  I  wrote  (the  day  after  arriving  at  the  hos- 
pital) "is  a  fair  diagnosis  of  my  case  as  it  stands 
to-day,  assuming,  of  course,  that  an  author  is  one  who 
loves  to  write,  and  can  write  with  ease,  even  though 
what  he  says  may  have  no  literary  value.  My  past 
proves  that  my  organization  is  a  peculiar  one.  I  have 
for  years  (two  and  a  half)  had  a  desire  to  achieve 
success  along  literary  lines.  I  believe  that,  feeling  as 
I  do  to-day,  nothing  can  prevent  my  writing.  If  I  had 
to  make  a  choice  at  once  between  a  sure  success  in  the 
business  career  ahead  of  me  and  doubtful  success  in  the 
field  of  literature,  I  would  willingly,  yes  confidently, 
choose  the  latter.  I  have  read  many  a  time  about  suc- 
cessful writers  who  learned  how  to  write,  and  by  dint 
of  hard  work  ground  out  their  ideas.     If  these  men  could 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  231 

succeed,  why  should  not  a  man  who  is  in  danger  of 
being  ground  up  by  an  excess  of  ideas  and  imagination 
succeed,  when  he  seems  able  to  put  those  ideas  into 
fairly  intelligible  English?   He  should  and  will  succeed. " 

Therefore,  without  delay,  I  began  the  course  of  experi- 
ment and  practice  which  culminated  within  a  few  months 
in  the  first  draft  of  my  story.  Wise  enough  to  realize 
the  advantages  of  a  situation  free  from  the  annoying 
interruptions  of  the  workaday  world,  I  enjoyed  a  de- 
gree of  liberty  seldom  experienced  by  those  in  possession 
of  complete  legal  liberty  and  its  attendant  obligations. 
When  I  wished  to  read,  write,  talk,  walk,  sleep,  or  eat, 
I  did  the  thing  I  wished.  I  went  to  the  theatre  when 
the  spirit  moved  me  to  do  so,  accompanied,  of  course, 
by  an  attendant,  who  on  such  occasions  played  the  role 
of  chum. 

Friends  called  to  see  me  and,  at  their  suggestion  or 
mine,  invited  me  to  dinner  outside  the  walls  of  my 
"cloister."  At  one  of  these  dinners  an  incident  occurred 
which  throws  a  clear  light  on  my  condition  at  the 
time.  The  friend,  whose  willing  prisoner  I  was,  had 
invited  a  common  friend  to  join  the  party.  The  latter 
had  not  heard  of  my  recent  commitment.  At  my 
suggestion,  he  who  shared  my  secret  had  agreed  not  to 
refer  to  it  unless  I  first  broached  the  subject.  There 
was  nothing  strange  in  the  fact  that  we  three  should 
meet.  Just  such  impromptu  celebrations  had  before 
occurred  among  us.  We  dined,  and,  as  friends  will, 
indulged  in  that  exchange  of  thoughts  which  bespeaks 
intimacy.     During  our  talk,  I  so  shaped  the  conversation 


232  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

that  the  possibility  of  a  recurrence  of  my  mental  illness 
was  discussed.     The  uninformed  friend  derided  the  idea. 

"Then,  if  I  were  to  tell  you,"  I  remarked,  "  that  I  am  at 
this  moment  supposedly  insane — at  least  not  normal — 
and  that  when  I  leave  you  to-night  I  shall  go  direct  to 
the  very  hospital  where  I  was  formerly  confined,  there 
to  remain  until  the  doctors  pronounce  me  fit  for  freedom, 
what  would  you  say?  " 

"I  should  say  that  you  are  a  choice  sort  of  liar/'  he 
retorted. 

This  genial  insult  I  swallowed  with  gratification.  It 
was,  in  truth,  a  timely  and  encouraging  compliment, 
the  force  of  which  its  author  failed  to  appreciate  until 
my  host  had  corroborated  my  statements. 

If  I  could  so  favorably  impress  an  intimate  friend  at  a 
time  when  I  was  elated,  it  is  not  surprising  that  I  should 
subsequently  hold  an  interview  with  a  comparative 
stranger — the  cashier  of  a  local  bank— without  betray- 
ing my  state  of  mind.  As  business  interviews  go,  this 
was  in  a  class  by  itself.  While  my  attendant  stood 
guard  at  the  door,  I,  an  enrolled  inmate  of  a  hospital 
for  the  insane,  entered  the  banking  room  and  talked 
with  a  level-headed  banker.  And  that  interview  was 
not  without  effect  in  subsequent  negotiations  which  led 
to  the  closing  of  a  contract  amounting  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

The  very  day  I  re-entered  the  hospital  I  stopped  on 
the  way  at  a  local  hotel  and  procured  some  of  the 
hostelry's  stationery.  By  using  this  in  the  writing  of 
personal  and  business  letters  I  managed  to  conceal  my 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  233 

condition  and  my  whereabouts  from  all  except  near 
relatives  and  a  few  intimate  friends  who  shared  the 
secret.  I  quite  enjoyed  leading  this  legitimate  double 
life.  The  situation  appealed  (not  in  vain)  to  my  sense 
of  humor.  Many  a  smile  did  I  indulge  in  when  I 
closed  a  letter  with  such  ambiguous  phrases  as  the  fol- 
lowing: "Matters  of  importance  necessitate  my  remain- 
ing where  I  am  for  an  indefinite  period. "  .  .  .  "  A 
situation  has  recently  arisen  which  will  delay  my 
intended  trip  South.  As  soon  as  I  have  closed  a  certain 
contract  (having  in  mind  my  contract  to  re-establish  my 
sanity)  I  shall  again  take  to  the  road."  To  this  day 
few  friends  or  acquaintances  know  that  I  was  in  semi- 
exile  during  the  month  of  January,  1905.  My  desire 
to  suppress  the  fact  was  not  due,  as  already  intimated, 
to  any  sensitiveness  regarding  the  subject  of  insanity. 
What  afterwards  justified  my  course  was  that  on  regain- 
ing my  freedom  I  was  able,  without  embarrassment, 
again  to  take  up  my  work.  Within  a  month  of  my  vol- 
untary commitment,  that  is,  in  February,  I  started 
on  a  business  trip  through  the  Central  West  and  South, 
where  I  remained  until  the  following  July.  During  those 
months  I  felt  perfectly  well,  and  have  remained  in  excel- 
lent health  ever  since. 

This  second  interruption  of  my  career  came  at  a  time 
and  in  a  manner  to  furnish  me  with  strong  arguments 
wherewith  to  support  my  contention  that  so-called 
madmen  are  too  often  man-made,  and  that  he  who  is 
potentially  mad  may  keep  a  saving  grip  on  his  own 
reason  if  he  be  fortunate  enough  to  receive  that  kindly 


234  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

and  intelligent  treatment  to  which  one  on  the  brink  of 
mental  chaos  is  entitled.  Though  during  this  second 
period  of  elation  I  was  never  in  a  mood  so  reckless  as 
that  which  obtained  immediately  after  my  recovery 
from  depression  in  August,  1902, 1  was  at  least  so  excitable 
that,  had  those  in  authority  attempted  to  impose  upon 
me,  I  should  have  thrown  discretion  to  the  winds.  To 
them,  indeed,  I  frankly  reiterated  a  terse  dictum  which 
I  had  coined  during  my  first  period  of  elation.  "Just 
press  the  button  of  Injustice/'  I  said,  aand  I'll  do  the 
rest!"  This  I  meant,  for  fear  of  punishment  does  not 
restrain  a  man  in  the  dare-devil  grip  of  elation. 

What  fostered  my  self-control  was  a  sense  of  gratitude. 
The  doctors  and  attendants  treated  me  as  a  gentleman. 
Therefore  it  was  not  difficult  to  prove  myself  one.  My 
every  whim  was  at  least  considered  with  a  politeness 
which  enabled  me  to  accept  a  denial  with  a  highly  sane 
equanimity.  Aside  from  mild  tonics  I  took  no  other 
medicine  than  that  most  beneficial  sort  which  inheres  in 
kindness.  The  feeling  that,  though  a  prisoner,  I  could 
still  command  obligations  from  others  led  me  to  recog- 
nize my  own  reciprocal  obligations,  and  was  a  constant 
source  of  delight.  The  doctors,  by  proving  their  title 
to  that  confidence  which  I  tentatively  gave  them  upon 
re-entering  the  institution,  had  no  difficulty  in  convinc- 
ing me  that  a  temporary  curtailment  of  some  privileges 
was  for  my  own  good.  They  all  evinced  a  consistent 
desire  to  trust  me.     In  return  I  trusted  them. 


XXXI 

On  leaving  the  hospital  and  resuming  my  travels,  I 
felt  sure  that  any  one  of  several  magazines  or  newspapers 
would  willingly  have  had  me  conduct  my  campaign 
under  its  nervously  commercial  auspices;  but  a  flash-in- 
the-pan  method  did  not  appeal  to  me.  Those  noxious 
growths,  Incompetence,  Abuse,  and  Injustice,  had  not 
only  to  be  cut  down,  but  rooted  out.  Therefore,  I  clung 
to  my  determination  to  write  a  book — an  instrument  of 
attack  which,  if  it  cuts  and  sears  at  all,  does  so  as  long 
as  the  need  exists.  Inasmuch  as  I  knew  that  I  still  had 
to  learn  how  to  write,  I  approached  my  task  with  delib- 
eration. I  planned  to  do  two  things :  first,  to  crystallize 
my  thoughts  by  discussion — telling  the  story  of  my  life 
whenever  in  my  travels  I  should  meet  any  person  who 
inspired  my  confidence;  second,  while  the  subject 
matter  of  my  book  was  shaping  itself  in  my  mind,  to 
drill  myself  by  carrying  on  a  letter-writing  campaign. 
Both  these  things  I  did — as  certain  indulgent  friends 
who  bore  the  brunt  of  my  spoken  and  written  discourse 
can  certify.  I  feared  the  less  to  be  dubbed  a  bore,  and 
I  hesitated  the  less,  perhaps,  to  impose  upon  good-nature, 
because  of  my  firm  conviction  that  one  in  a  position  to 
help  the  many  was  himself  entitled  to  the  help  of  the 
few. 

I  wrote  scores  of  letters  of  great  length.     I  cared  little 

235 


236  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

if  some  of  my  friends  should  conclude  that  I  had  been 
born  a  century  too  late;  for,  without  them  as  confidants, 
I  must  write  with  no  more  inspiring  object  in  view  than 
the  wastebasket.  Indeed,  I  found  it  difficult  to  com- 
pose without  keeping  before  me  the  image  of  a  friend. 
Having  stipulated  that  every  letter  should  be  returned 
upon  demand,  I  wrote  without  reserve — my  imagination 
had  free  rein.  I  wrote  as  I  thought,  and  I  thought  as  I 
pleased.  The  result  was  that  within  six  months  I 
found  myself  writing  with  a  facility  which  hitherto  had 
obtained  only  during  elation.  At  first  I  was  suspicious 
of  this  new-found  and  apparently  permanent  ease  of 
expression — so  suspicious  that  I  set  about  diagnos- 
ing my  symptoms.  My  self-examination  convinced 
me  that  I  was,  in  fact,  quite  normal.  I  had  no  irre- 
sistible desire  to  write,  nor  was  there  any  suggestion  of 
that  exalted,  or  (technically  speaking)  euphoric,  light- 
heartedness  which  characterizes  elation.  Further,  after  a 
prolonged  period  of  composition,  I  experienced  a  com- 
forting sense  of  exhaustion  which  I  had  not  known  while 
elated.  I  therefore  concluded — and  rightly— that  my 
unwonted  facility  was  the  product  of  practice.  At  last  I 
found  myself  able  to  conceive  an  idea  and  immediately 
transfer  it  to  paper  effectively. 

In  July,  1905,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  the  time 
for  beginning  my  book  was  at  hand.  Nevertheless,  I 
found  it  difficult  to  set  a  definite  date.  About  this  time 
I  so  arranged  my  itinerary  that  I  was  able  to  enjoy  two 
summer — though  stormy — nights  and  a  day  at  the 
Summit  House  on  Mount  Washington.    What  better, 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  237 

thought  I,  than  to  begin  my  book  on  a  plane  so  high  as 
to  be  appropriate  to  this  noble  summit?  I  therefore  began 
to  compose  a  dedication.  "To  Humanity"  was  as  far 
as  I  got.     There  the  Muse  forsook  me. 

But,  returning  to  earth  and  going  about  my  business, 
I  soon  again  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  inspiring 
natural  surroundings — the  Berkshire  Hills.  At  this 
juncture  Man  came  to  the  assistance  of  Nature,  and 
perhaps  with  an  unconsciousness  equal  to  her  own.  It 
was  a  chance  remark  made  by  an  eminent  man  that 
aroused  my  subconscious  literary  personality  to  irresist- 
ible action.  I  had  long  wished  to  discuss  my  project 
with  a  man  of  great  reputation,  and  if  the  reputation  were 
international,  so  much  the  better.  I  desired  the  unbiased 
opinion  of  a  judicial  mind.  Opportunely,  I  learned  that 
the  Hon.  Joseph  H.  Choate  was  then  at  his  summer 
residence  at  Stockbridge,  Massachusetts.  Mr.  Choate 
had  never  heard  of  me  and  I  had  no  letter  of  introduction. 
The  exigencies  of  the  occasion,  however,  demanded  that  I 
conjure  one  up,  so  I  wrote  my  own  letter  of  introduction 
and  sent  it: 

Red  Lion  Inn, 

Stockbridge,  Mass. 

August  18,  1906. 
Hon.  Joseph  H.  Choate, 

Stockbridge,  Massachusetts. 

Dear  Sir: 

Though  I  might  present  myself  at  your  door,  armed  with  one  of 
society's  unfair  skeleton-keys — a  letter  of  introduction — I  prefer 
to  approach  you  as  I  now  do :  simply  as  a  young  man  who  honestly 
feels  entitled  to  at  least  five  minutes  of  your  time,  and  as  many 


238  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

minutes  more  as  you  care  to  grant  because  of  your  interest  in  the 
subject  to  be  discussed. 

I  look  to  you  at  this  time  for  your  opinion  as  to  the  value  of 
some  ideas  of  mine,  and  the  feasibility  of  certain  schemes  based 
on  them. 

A  few  months  ago  I  talked  with  President  Hadley  of  Yale,  and 
briefly  outlined  my  plans.  He  admitted  that  many  of  them 
seemed  feasible  and  would,  if  carried  out,  add  much  to  the  sum- 
total  of  human  happiness.  His  only  criticism  was  that  they  were 
"too  comprehensive." 

Not  until  I  have  staggered  an  imagination  of  the  highest  type 
will  I  admit  that  I  am  trying  to  do  too  much.  Should  you  refuse 
to  see  me,  believe  me  when  I  tell  you  that  you  will  still  be,  as  you 
are  at  this  moment,  the  unconscious  possessor  of  my  sincere  respect. 

Business  engagements  necessitate  my  leaving  here  early  on 
Monday  next.  Should  you  care  to  communicate  with  me,  word 
sent  in  care  of  this  hotel  will  reach  me  promptly. 

Yours  very  truly; 

Clifford  W.  Beers. 

Within  an  hour  I  had  received  a  reply,  in  which  Mr. 
Choate  said  that  he  would  see  me  at  his  home  at  ten 
o'clock  the  next  morning. 

At  the  appointed  time,  the  door,  whose  lock  I  had 
picked  with  a  pen,  opened  before  me  and  I  was  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  Mr.  Choate.  He  was  graciousness 
itself — but  pointed  significantly  at  a  heap  of  unan- 
swered letters  lying  before  him.  I  took  the  hint  and 
within  ten  minutes  briefly  outlined  my  plans.  After 
pronouncing  my  project  a  " commendable  one,"  Mr. 
Choate  offered  the  suggestion  that  produced  results. 
"If  you  will  submit  your  ideas  in  writing,"  he  said,  "I 
shall  be  glad  to  read  your  manuscript  and  assist  you  in 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  239 

any  way  I  can.  To  consider  fully  your  scheme  would 
require  several  hours,  and  busy  men  cannot  very  well 
give  you  so  much  time.  What  they  can  do  is  to  read 
your  manuscript  during  their  leisure  moments." 

Thus  it  was  that  Mr.  Choate,  by  granting  the  inter- 
view, contributed  to  an  earlier  realization  of  my  purposes. 
One  week  later  I  began  the  composition  of  this  book. 
My  action  was  unpremeditated,  as  my  quitting  Boston 
for  less  attractive  Worcester  proves.  That  very  day, 
rinding  myself  with  a  day  and  a  half  of  leisure  before  me, 
I  decided  to  tempt  the  Muse  and  compel  myself  to  prove 
that  my  pen  was,  in  truth,  "  the  tongue  of  a  ready  writer." 
A  stranger  in  the  city,  I  went  to  a  school  of  stenography 
and  there  secured  the  services  of  a  young  man  who, 
though  inexperienced  in  his  art,  was  more  skilled  in 
catching  thoughts  as  they  took  wing  than  I  was  at  that 
time  in  the  art  of  setting  them  free.  Except  in  the 
writing  of  one  or  two  conventional  business  letters,  never 
before  had  I  dictated  to  a  stenographer.  After  I  had 
startled  him  into  an  attentive  mood  by  briefly  outlining 
my  past  career  and  present  purpose,  I  worked  without 
any  definite  plan  or  brief,  or  reference  to  data.  My 
narrative  was  therefore  digressive  and  only  roughly 
chronological.  But  it  served  to  get  my  material  in  front 
of  me  for  future  shaping.  At  this  task  I  hammered 
away  three  or  four  hours  a  day  for  a  period  of  five 
weeks. 

It  so  happened  that  Mr.  Choate  arrived  at  the  same 
hotel  on  the  day  I  took  up  my  abode  there,  so  that  some 
of  the  toil  he  had  inspired  went  on  in  his  proximity,  if 


240  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

not  in  his  presence.  I  carefully  kept  out  of  his  sight, 
however,  lest  he  should  think  me  a  "crank"  on  the 
subject  of  reform,  bent  on  persecuting  his  leisure. 

As  the  work  progressed  my  facility  increased.     In  fact, 
I  soon  called  in  an  additional  stenographer  to  help  in  the 
snaring  of  my  thoughts.     This  excessive  productivity 
caused  me  to  pause  and  again  diagnose  my  condition. 
I  could  not  fail   now  to  recognize  in  myself  symptoms 
hardly  distinguishable  from  those  which  had  obtained 
eight  months  earlier  when  it  had  been  deemed  expedient 
temporarily  to  restrict  my  freedom.     But  I  had  grown 
wise  in  adversity.     Rather  than  interrupt  my  manu- 
script short  of  completion  I  decided  to  avail  myself  of  a 
vacation  that  was  due,  and  remain  outside  my  native 
State — this,   so   that  well-meaning  but   perhaps   over- 
zealous  relatives  might  be  spared  unnecessary  anxiety, 
and  I  myself  be  spared  possible  unwarranted  restrictions. 
I  was  by  no  means  certain  as  to  the  degree  of  mental 
excitement   that   would   result   from   such    continuous 
mental  application;    nor  did  I  much  care,  so  long  as 
I  accomplished  my  task.     However,   as  I  knew  that 
"possession  is  nine  points  of  the  law, "  I  decided  to  main- 
tain my  advantage  by  remaining  in  my  literary  fortress. 
And  my  resolve  was  further  strengthened  by  certain 
cherished  sentiments  expressed  by  John  Stuart  Mill  in 
his  essay  "On  Liberty,"  which  I  had  read  and  reread 
with  an  interest  born  of  experience. 

At  last  the  first  draft  of  the  greater  part  of  my  story 
was  completed.  After  a  timely  remittance  (for,  in 
strict  accordance  with  the  traditions  of  the  craft,  I  had 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  241 

exhausted  my  financial  resources)  I  started  for  home 
with  a  sigh  of  relief.  For  months  I  had  been  under  the 
burden  of  a  conscious  obligation.  My  memory,  stored 
with  information  which,  if  rightly  used,  could,  I  believed, 
brighten  and  even  save  unhappy  lives,  was  to  me  as  a 
basket  of  eggs  which  it  was  my  duty  to  balance  on  a 
head  whose  poise  was  supposed  to  be  none  too  certain. 
One  by  one,  during  the  preceding  five  weeks,  I  had  gently 
lifted  my  thoughts  from  their  resting-place,  until  a  large 
part  of  my  burden  had  been  so  shifted  as  to  admit  of 
its  being  imposed  upon  the  public  conscience. 

After  I  had  lived  over  asrain  the  trials  and  the  tortures 

o 

of  my  unhappiest  years — which  was  of  course  necessary  in 
ploughing  and  harrowing  a  memory  happily  retentive — 
the  completion  of  this  first  draft  left  me  exhausted.  But 
after  a  trip  to  New  York,  whither  I  went  to  convince 
my  employers  that  I  should  be  granted  a  further  leave- 
of-absence,  I  resumed  work.  The  ground  for  this  added 
favor  was  that  my  manuscript  was  too  crude  to  submit  to 
any  but  intimate  acquaintances.  Knowing,  perhaps, 
that  a  business  man  with  a  literary  bee  buzzing  in  his 
ear  is,  for  the  time,  no  business  man  at  all,  my  employers 
readily  agreed  that  I  should  do  as  I  pleased  during  the 
month  of  October.  They  also  believed  me  entitled  to 
the  favor,  recognizing  the  force  of  my  belief  that  I  had  a 
high  obligation  to  discharge. 

It  was  under  the  family  rooftree  that  I  now  set  up  my 
literary  shop.  Nine  months  ear  Her  an  unwonted  interest 
in  literature  and  reform  had  sent  me  to  an  institution. 
That  I  should  now  in  my  own  home  be  able  to  work  out 


242  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

my  destiny  without  unduly  disturbing  the  peace  of  mind 
of  relatives  was  a  considerable  satisfaction.  In  the  very 
room  where,  during  June,  1900,  my  reason  had  set  out 
for  an  unknown  goal,  I  redictated  my  account  of  that 
reason's  experiences. 

My  leave-of-absence  ended,  I  resumed  my  travels 
eagerly;  for  I  wished  to  cool  my  brain  by  daily  contact 
with  the  more  prosaic  minds  of  men  of  business.  I  went 
South.  For  a  time  I  banished  all  thoughts  of  my  book 
and  project.  But  after  some  months  of  this  change  of 
occupation,  which  I  thoroughly  enjoyed,  I  found  leisure 
in  the  course  of  wide  travels  to  take  up  the  work  of 
elaboration  and  revision.  A  presentable  draft  of  my 
story  being  finally  prepared,  I  began  to  submit  it  to 
all  sorts  and  conditions  of  minds  (in  accordance  with 
Mill's  dictum  that  only  in  that  way  can  the  truth  be 
obtained).  In  my  quest  for  criticism  and  advice,  I 
fortunately  decided  to  submit  my  manuscript  to  Pro- 
fessor William  James  of  Harvard  University,  the  most 
eminent  of  American  psychologists  and  a  masterful 
writer,  who  was  then  living.  He  expressed  interest  in 
my  project;  put  my  manuscript  with  others  on  his 
desk  —  but  was  somewhat  reserved  when  it  came 
to  promising  to  read  my  story.  He  said  it  might  be 
months  before  he  could  find  time  to  do  so.  Within  a 
fortnight,  however,  I  received  from  him  a  character- 
istic letter.  To  me  it  came  as  a  rescuing  sun,  after  a 
period  of  groping  about  for  an  authoritative  opinion 
that  should  put  scoffers  to  flight.  The  letter  read  as 
follows : 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  243 


95  Irving  St.,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
July  1,  1906. 


Dear  Mr.  Beers: 


Having  at  last  "got  round"  to  your  MS.,  I  have  read  it  with 
very  great  interest  and  admiration  for  both  its  style  and  its  temper. 
I  hope  you  will  finish  it  and  publish  it.  It  is  the  best  written  out 
"case"  that  I  have  seen;  and  you  no  doubt  have  put  your  finger  on 
the  weak  spots  of  our  treatment  of  the  insane,  and  suggested  the 
right  line  of  remedy.  I  have  long  thought  that  if  I  were  a  million- 
aire, with  money  to  leave  for  public  purposes,  I  should  endow 
"Insanity"  exclusively. 

You  were  doubtless  a  pretty  intolerable  character  when  the  ma- 
niacal condition  came  on  and  you  were  bossing  the  universe.  Not 
only  ordinary  "tact,"  but  a  genius  for  diplomacy  must  have  been 
needed  for  avoiding  rows  with  you;  but  you  certainly  were  wrongly 

treated  nevertheless;  and  the  spiteful  Assistant  M.D.  at 

deserves  to  have  his  name  published.    Your  report  is  full  of  in- 
structiveness  for  doctors  and  attendants  alike. 

The  most  striking  thing  in  it  to  my  mind  is  the  sudden  conver- 
sion of  you  from  a  delusional  subject  to  a  maniacal  one — how  the 
whole  delusional  system  disintegrated  the  moment  one  pin  was 
drawn  out  by  your  proving  your  brother  to  be  genuine.  I  never 
heard  of  so  rapid  a  change  in  a  mental  system. 

You  speak  of  rewriting.  Don't  you  do  it.  You  can  hardly 
improve  your  book.  I  shall  keep  the  MS.  a  week  longer  as  I  wish 
to  impart  it  to  a  friend. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Wm.  James. 

Though  Mr.  James  paid  me  the  compliment  of  ad- 
vising me  not  to  rewrite  my  original  manuscript,  I  did 
revise  it  quite  thoroughly  before  publication.  When 
my  book  was  about  to  go  to  press  for  the  first  time  and 
since  its  reception  by  the   public  was   problematical, 


244  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  asked  permission  to  publish  the  letter  already  quoted. 
In  reply,  Mr.  James  sent  the  following  letter,  also  for 
publication. 

95  Irving  St.,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
November  10,  1907. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

You  are  welcome  to  use  the  letter  I  wrote  to  you  (on  July  1, 
1906)  after  reading  the  first  part  of  your  MS.  in  any  way  your 
judgment  prompts,  whether  as  preface,  advertisement,  or  any- 
thing else.  Reading  the  rest  of  it  only  heightens  its  importance 
in  my  eyes.  In  style,  in  temper,  in  good  taste,  it  is  irreproach- 
able. As  for  contents,  it  is  fit  to  remain  in  literature  as  a  classic 
account  "from  within"  of  an  insane  person's  psychology. 

The  book  ought  to  go  far  toward  helping  along  that  terribly 
needed  reform,  the  amelioration  of  the  lot  of  the  insane  of  our 
country,  for  the  Auxiliary  Society  which  you  propose  is  feasible 
(as  numerous  examples  in  other  fields  show),  and  ought  to  work 
important  effects  on  the  whole  situation. 

You  have  handled  a  difficult  theme  with  great  skill,  and  pro- 
duced a  narrative  of  absorbing  interest  to  scientist  as  well  as  lay- 
man. It  reads  like  fiction,  but  it  is  not  fiction;  and  this  I  state 
emphatically,  knowing  how  prone  the  uninitiated  are  to  doubt 
the  truthfulness  of  descriptions  of  abnormal  mental  processes. 

With  best  wishes  for  the  success  of  the  book  and  the  plan,  both 
of  which,  I  hope,  will  prove  epoch-making,  I  remain, 

Sincerely  yours, 

Wm.  James. 

Several  times  in  my  narrative,  I  have  said  that  the 
seemingly  unkind  fate  that  robbed  me  of  several 
probably  happy  and  healthful  years  had  hidden 
within  it  compensations  which  have  offset  the  suffer- 
ings and  the  loss  of  those  years.  Not  the  least  of  the 
compensations  has  been  the  many  letters  sent  to  me  by 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  245 

eminent  men  and  women,  who,  having  achieved  results 
in  their  own  work,  are  ever  responsive  to  the  efforts 
of  anyone  trying  to  reach  a  difficult  objective.  Of 
all  the  encouraging  opinions  I  have  ever  received, 
one  has  its  own  niche  in  my  memory.  It  came  from 
William  James  a  few  months  before  his  death,  and  will 
ever  be  an  inspiration  to  me.  Let  my  excuse  for 
revealing  so  complimentary  a  letter  be  that  it  justifies 
the  hopes  and  aspirations  expressed  in  the  course  of 
my  narrative,  and  shows  them  to  be  well  on  the  way  to 
accomplishment. 

95  Irving  Street,  Cambridge, 
January  17,  1910. 
Dear  Beers: 

Your  exegesis  of  my  farewell  in  my  last  note  to  you  was  errone- 
ous, but  I  am  glad  it  occurred,  because  it  brought  me  the  extreme 
gratification  of  your  letter  of  yesterday. 

You  are  the  most  responsive  and  recognizant  of  human  beings, 
my  dear  Beers,  and  it  "  sets  me  up  immensely  "  to  be  treated 
by  a  practical  man  on  practical  grounds  as  you  treat  me.  I 
inhabit  such  a  realm  of  abstractions  that  I  only  get  credit  for  what 
I  do  in  that  spectral  empire;  but  you  are  not  only  a  moral  idealist 
and  philanthropic  enthusiast  (and  good  fellow!),  but  a  tip-top 
man  of  business  in  addition;  and  to  have  actually  done  anything 
that  the  like  of  you  can  regard  as  having  helped  him  is  an  unwonted 
ground  with  me  for  self-gratulation.  I  think  that  your  tenacity  of 
purpose,  foresight,  tact,  temper,  discretion  and  patience,  are 
beyond  all  praise,  and  I  esteem  it  an  honor  to  have  been  in  any 
degree  associated  with  you.  Your  name  will  loom  big  hereafter, 
for  your  movement  must  prosper,  but  mine  will  not  survive  unless 
some  other  kind  of  effort  of  mine  saves  it. 

I  am  exceedingly  glad  of  what  you  say  of  the  Connecticut 
Society.     May  it  prosper  abundantly! 


246  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  thank  you  for  your  affectionate  words  which  I  return  with 
interest  and  remain,  for  I  trust  many  years  of  this  life, 

Yours  faithfully, 
Wm.  James. 

At  this  point,  rather  than  in  the  dusty  corners  of  the 
usual  preface,  I  wish  to  express  my  obligation  to  Herbert 
Wescott  Fisher,  whom  I  knew  at  school.  It  was  he  who 
led  me  to  see  my  need  of  technical  training,  neglected  in 
earlier  years.  To  be  exact,  however,  I  must  confess 
that  I  read  rather  than  studied  rhetoric.  Close  appli- 
cation to  its  rules  served  only  to  discourage  me,  so  I 
but  lazily  skimmed  the  pages  of  the  works  which  he 
recommended.  But  my  friend  did  more  than  direct 
me  to  sources.  He  proved  to  be  the  kindly  mean 
between  the  two  extremes  of  stranger  and  intimate. 
I  was  a  prophet  not  without  honor  in  his  eyes.  Upon 
an  embarrassing  wealth  of  material  he  brought  to  bear 
his  practical  knowledge  of  the  workmanship  of  writing; 
and  my  drafting  of  the  later  parts  and  subsequent 
revisions  has  been  so  improved  by  the  practice  received 
under  his  scrupulous  direction  that  he  has  had  little 
fault  to  find  with  them.  My  debt  to  him  is  almost 
beyond  repayment. 

Nothing  would  please  me  more  than  to  express  specifi- 
cally my  indebtedness  to  many  others  who  have  assisted 
me  in  the  preparation  of  my  work.  But,  aside  from  call- 
ing attention  to  the  fact  that  physicians  connected  with 
the  State  Hospital  and  with  the  private  institution 
referred  to— the  one  not  run  for  profit — exhibited  rare 
magnanimity  (even  going  so  far  as  to  write  letters  which 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  247 

helped  me  in  my  work),  and,  further,  acknowledging 
anonymously  (the  list  is  too  long  for  explicit  mention) 
the  invaluable  advice  given  me  by  psychiatrists  who  have 
enabled  me  to  make  my  work  authoritative,  I  must  be 
content  to  indite  an  all-embracing  acknowledgment. 
Therefore,  and  with  distinct  pleasure,  I  wish  to  say 
that  the  active  encouragement  of  casual,  but  trusted 
acquaintances,  the  inspiring  indifference  of  unconvinced 
intimates,  and  the  kindly  scepticism  of  indulgent  rela- 
tives, who,  perforce,  could  do  naught  but  obey  an  immu- 
table law  of  blood-related  minds — all  these  influences 
have  conspired  to  render  more  sure  the  accomplishment  of 
my  heart's  desire. 


XXXII 

"My  heart's  desire"  is  a  true  phrase.  Since  1900, 
when  my  own  breakdown  occurred,  not  fewer  than  one 
million  men  and  women  in  the  United  States  alone  have 
for  like  causes  had  to  seek  treatment  in  institutions, 
thousands  of  others  have  been  treated  outside  of 
institutions,  while  other  thousands  have  received  no 
treatment  at  all.  Yet,  to  use  the  words  of  one  of  our 
most  conservative  and  best  informed  psychiatrists, 
"No  less  than  half  of  the  enormous  toll  which  mental 
disease  takes  from  the  youth  of  this  country  can  be 
prevented  by  the  application,  largely  in  childhood, 
of  information  and  practical  resources  now  available." 

Elsewhere  is  an  account  of  how  my  plan  broad- 
ened from  reform  to  cure,  from  cure  to  prevention, 
— how  far,  with  the  co-operation  of  some  of  this  coun- 
try's ablest  specialists  and  most  generous  philanthropists, 
it  has  been  realized,  nationally  and  internationally, 
through  the  new  form  of  social  mechanism  known  as 
societies,  committees,  leagues  or  associations  for  mental 
hygiene. 

More  fundamental,  however,  than  any  technical 
reform,  cure,  or  prevention — indeed,  a  condition  prece- 
dent to  all  these — is  a  changed  spiritual  attitude  toward 
the  insane.    They  are  still  human:  they  love  and  hate, 

243 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  249 

and  have  a  sense  of  humor.  The  worst  are  usually 
responsive  to  kindness.  In  not  a  few  cases  their  grati- 
tude is  livelier  than  that  of  normal  men  and  women. 
Any  person  who  has  worked  among  the  insane,  and  done 
his  duty  by  them,  can  testify  to  cases  in  point;  and  even 
casual  observers  have  noted  the  fact  that  the  insane  are 
oftentimes  appreciative.  Consider  the  experience  of 
Thackeray,  as  related  by  himself  in  "Vanity  Fair" 
(Chapter  LVII).  "I  recollect,"  he  writes,  " seeing, 
years  ago,  at  the  prison  for  idiots  and  madmen,  at  Bicetre, 
near  Paris,  a  poor  wretch  bent  down  under  the  bondage 
of  his  imprisonment  and  his  personal  infirmity,  to  whom 
one  of  our  party  gave  a  halfpennyworth  of  snuff  in  a 
cornet  or  '  screw '  of  paper.  The  kindness  was  too  much 
.  .  .  He  cried  in  an  anguish  of  delight  and  gratitude;  if 
anybody  gave  you  and  me  a  thousand  a  year,  or  saved 
our  lives,  we  could  not  be  so  affected. " 

A  striking  exhibition  of  fine  feeling  on  the  part  of  a 
patient  was  brought  to  my  attention  by  an  assistant 
physician  whom  I  met  while  visiting  a  State  Hospital  in 
Massachusetts.  It  seems  that  the  woman  in  question  had, 
at  her  worst,  caused  an  endless  amount  of  annoyance  by 
indulging  in  mischievous  acts  which  seemed  to  verge  on 
malice.  At  that  time,  therefore,  no  observer  would  have 
credited  her  with  the  exquisite  sensibility  she  so  signally 
displayed  when  she  had  become  convalescent  and  was 
granted  a  parole  which  permitted  her  to  walk  at  will 
about  the  hospital  grounds.  After  one  of  these  walks, 
taken  in  the  early  spring,  she  rushed  up  to  my  informant 
and,  with  childlike  simplicity,  told  him  of  the  thrill  of 


250  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

delight  she  had  experienced  in  discovering  the  first  flower 
of  the  year  in  full  bloom — a  dandelion,  which,  with  char- 
acteristic audacity,  had  risked  its  life  by  braving  the 
elements  of  an  uncertain  season. 

"Did  you  pick  it?"   asked  the  doctor. 

"I  stooped  to  do  so/'  said  the  patient;  "then  I 
thought  of  the  pleasure  the  sight  of  it  had  given  me — 
so  I  left  it,  hoping  that  someone  else  would  discover  it 
and  enjoy  its  beauty  as  I  did. " 

Thus  it  was  that  a  woman,  while  still  insane,  uncon- 
sciously exhibited  perhaps  finer  feeling  than  did  Ruskin, 
Tennyson,  and  Patmore  on  an  occasion  the  occurrence 
of  which  is  vouched  for  by  Mr.  Julian  Hawthorne. 
These  three  masters,  out  for  a  walk  one  chilly  afternoon 
in  late  autumn,  discovered  a  belated  violet  bravely 
putting  forth  from  the  shelter  of  a  mossy  stone.  Not 
until  these  worthies  had  got  down  on  all  fours  and  done 
ceremonious  homage  to  the  flower  did  they  resume  their 
walk.  Suddenly  Ruskin  halted  and,  planting  his  cane 
in  the  ground,  exclaimed,  "  I  don't  believe,  Alfred — 
Coventry,  I  don't  believe  that  there  are  in  all  England 
three  men  besides  ourselves  who,  after  finding  a  violet  at 
this  time  of  year,  would  have  had  forbearance  and  fine 
feeling  enough  to  refrain  from  plucking  it." 

The  reader  may  judge  whether  the  unconscious  dis- 
play of  feeling  by  the  obscure  inmate  of  a  hospital 
for  the  insane  was  not  finer  than  the  self-conscious 
raptures  of  these  three  men  of  world-wide  reputation. 

Is  it  not,  then,  an  atrocious  anomaly  that  the  treat- 
ment often   meted   out   to   insane  persons  is  the  very 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF  251 

treatment  which  would  deprive  some  sane  persons  of 
their  reason?  Miners  and  shepherds  who  penetrate  the 
mountain  fastnesses  sometimes  become  mentally  un- 
balanced as  a  result  of  prolonged  loneliness.  But 
they  usually  know  enough  to  return  to  civilization  when 
they  find  themselves  beginning  to  be  affected  with 
hallucinations.  Delay  means  death.  Contact  with 
sane  people,  if  not  too  long  postponed,  means  an  almost 
immediate  restoration  to  normality.  This  is  an  illu- 
minating fact.  Inasmuch  as  patients  cannot  usually  be 
set  free  to  absorb,  as  it  were,  sanity  in  the  community, 
it  is  the  duty  of  those  entrusted  with  their  care  to 
treat  them  with  the  utmost  tenderness  and  con- 
sideration. 

"After  all,"  said  a  psychiatrist  who  had  devoted  a 
long  life  to  work  among  the  insane,  both  as  an  assistant 
physician  and  later  as  superintendent  at  various  private 
and  public  hospitals,  "what  the  insane  most  need  is  a 
friend!" 

These  words,  spoken  to  me,  came  with  a  certain 
startling  freshness.  And  yet  it  was  the  sublime  and 
healing  power  of  this  same  love  which  received  its  most 
signal  demonstration  two  thousand  years  ago  at  the 
hands  of  one  who  restored  to  reason  and  his  home  that 
man  of  Scripture  "who  had  his  dwelling  among  the 
tombs;  and  no  man  could  bind  him,  no,  not  with  chains: 
Because  that  he  had  been  often  bound  with  fetters  and 
chains,  and  the  chains  had  been  plucked  asunder  by  him, 
and  the  fetters  broken  in  pieces;  neither  could  any  man 
tame  him.    And  always,  night  and  day,  he  was  in  the 


252  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

mountains,  and  in  the  tombs,  crying,  and  cutting  him- 
self with  stones.  But  when  he  saw  Jesus  afar  off,  he  ran 
and  worshipped  him,  And  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  and 
said,  What  have  I  to  do  with  Thee,  Jesus,  Thou  Son 
of  the  Most  High  God?  I  adjure  Thee  by  God,  that 
Thou  torment  me  not. " 


Having  told  the  story  of  my  least  happy  years 
and  laid  bare  experiences  which  perhaps  give  a 
strange  picture,  I  present  supplementary  material 
which  tells }  in  part  in  autobiographical  form,  of 
happier  years  and  of  what  has  been  accomplished 
by  forces  that  evidently  awaited  the  impulse  of  a 
story  like  mine  to  set  them  in  motion.  I  am 
fortunate  in  being  able  to  continue  my  work  by 
serving  as  Secretary  to  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene,  which,  with  the  assistance 
of  many  representative  men  and  women,  I  was 
instrumental  in  founding. 


253 


The  Mental  Hygiene  Movement 


Origin  and  Growth 

In  my  autobiography,  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself/' 
I  make  a  plea  for  mental  sufferers.  But  the  story  of 
the  work  that  followed  in  behalf  of  those  sufferers — 
the  story  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene,  of  State  Societies  in  this  country,  and  of 
national  committees  or  their  equivalent  in  foreign 
countries — is  now  to  be  told.  Though  I  call  this  story 
"The  Mental  Hygiene  Movement,"  it  might  not  in- 
appropriately be  entitled  "  The  Romance  of  Work." 
For  to  me,  at  least,  this  work  has  been  a  romance,  and 
not  wanting  in  thrills  and  even  in  dramatic  moments, 
as  one  difficulty  after  another  has  been  overcome. 

The  story  of  the  work  was  an  integral  part  of  the 
narrative  in  earlier  editions  of  "  A  Mind  That  Found 
Itself."  My  reasons  for  now  making  virtually  two 
books  of  what  was  formerly  one  are  reflected  in  the 
following  letter  from  Professor  Wilbur  Cross,  Editor  of 
The  Yale  Review  and  Dean  of  the  Graduate  School  at 
Yale  University. 

ass 


256  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

New  Haven,  Connecticut, 
September  12, 192 1. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

Your  extraordinary  book  I  have  followed  with  profound 
interest  through  its  various  editions  since  you  showed  me 
a  typewritten  copy  of  a  prehminary  draft  more  than 
fifteen  years  ago.  I  was  absorbed  in  the  story  you  then 
told.  You  may  remember  that  I  thought  you  had  the 
material,  which  was  at  that  time  not  wholly  in  literary 
form,  for  an  autobiography  comparable  to  De  Quincey's 
"Confessions."  Through  your  efforts  has  since  been 
organized  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene, 
with  affiliated  State  Societies;  and  agencies  similar  to 
the  National  Committee  have  been  established  in  foreign 
countries,  and  an  "International  Committee "  is  in  pro- 
cess of  formation. 

After  these  accomplishments,  it  seems  most  fitting 
that  you  should  now  rearrange  the  contents  of  your  book 
by  giving  the  story  of  your  experiences  as  one  continuous 
narrative  while  reserving  for  an  appendix  all  other 
matters.  In  the  proofs  of  the  revised,  5th  Edition  of 
your  autobiography,  I  read  without  a  break  the  won- 
derful tale  you  told  me  many  years  ago.  You  have  now 
produced  a  strange  and  thrilling  account  of  your  experi- 
ences, in  such  form  that  the  gain  for  literature  is  immense. 
In  short,  your  book  is  destined  to  become  a  classic. 
Believe  me, 

~  Yours  most  sincerely, 
Wilbur  L.  Cross. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  257 

A  leader  in  the  field  of  psychiatry  and  mental  hygiene, 
Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell,  Professor  of  Psychiatry  at 
Harvard  University,  who  did  me  the  favor  of  examin- 
ing the  proofs  of  my  revised  edition,  sent  me  the 
following  letter: 

Cambridge,  Mass., 
September  20,  1921. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

I  have  just,  read  the  page  proofs  of  the  fifth  edition  of 
"  A  Mind  That  Found  Itself,"  with  the  same  fascination 
with  which  I  read  the  book  on  its  first  appearance. 
Every  reader,  lay  or  medical,  cannot  but  be  carried  away 
by  the  rush  of  the  narrative.  The  psychopathologist 
may  here  and  there  modify  the  values  given  by  the  au- 
thor and  have  personal  interpretations  to  suggest,  but  he 
finds  in  the  book  both  a  story  of  absorbing  interest  and 
an  important  clinical  document.  I  admire  your  courage 
and  talent  in  having,  like  Mr.  A.  C.  Benson  in  aThy 
Rod  and  Thy  Staff,"  transmuted  a  distressing  personal 
experience  into  a  valuable  literary  product.  What  I 
admire  still  more  is  that,  while  Mr.  Benson  has  produced 
an.  essay  of  great  beauty,  you  have  furnished  us,  not 
only  with  a  literary  ornament,  but  with  a  powerful 
weapon  and  instrument  of  social  progress. 

It  is  a  sharp  weapon  with  which  to  smite  the  hydra- 
headed  abuses  connected  with  the  treatment  of  insanity, 
abuses  dependent  on  medieval  thought,  medical  ignor- 
ance, social  indifference,  personal  greed  and  insensitive- 
ness,  political  depravity,  financial  restrictions.  Even 
more  than  as  a  weapon  of  offence  is  your  book  valuable 


258  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

as  a  peaceful  instrument  of  social  improvement.  I  do 
not  suppose  that,  when  you  were  so  cheerfully  forging  this 
trenchant  weapon  and  thinking  of  reform,  you  foresaw 
how  rapid  would  be  the  development  of  the  movement 
represented  by  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene,  of  which  you  were  the  inspiration.  This  move- 
ment, which  had  its  origin  in  a  desire  to  correct  abuses, 
has  broadened  out  into  a  broad  health  movement,  dealing 
with  those  complex  functions  which  mean  most  to 
human  life. 

The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  has 
helped  much  in  relation  to  the  immediate  practical  prob- 
lems of  mental  disorder  and  defect;  it  has  emphasized 
the  important  bearing  of  these  topics  on  such  great  social 
problems  as  delinquency  and  dependency  of  all  types; 
it  has  consistently  aimed  at  bringing  into  education 
principles  of  prophylactic  value,  which  promise  ot 
develop  a  more  robust  personality  than  the  traditional 
education;  it  would  introduce  into  the  management  of 
industrial  and  economic  problems  the  consideration  of 
factors  involving  the  personality  of  the  individual 
worker,  which  in  the  past  have  been  strangely  neglected. 

The  field  of  mental  hygiene  is  coextensive  with  the 
field  of  human  endeavor;  progress  cannot  be  left  alto- 
gether to  the  unorganized  good- will  of  the  well-meaning, 
but  requires  organization  of  forces  and  the  clear  formu- 
lation of  problems  and  policies. 

I,  therefore,  consider  that  in  following  up  the  pub- 
lication of  your  book  by  the  organization  of  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  you  have  made  a  social 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  259 

contribution  of  very  great  value.  Those  who  have 
vague  ideas  on  the  exact  nature  and  scope  of  this  import- 
ant movement  will  find  in  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself" 
a  tale  of  intense  human  interest,  and  an  admirable 
introduction  to  some  of  the  practical  problems  of  mental 
hygiene. 

Cordially  yours, 
C.  Macfie  Campbell.   • 

Why  I  continue  to  write  in  an  intimate  way  in  this 
sequel  to  my  first  book  is  indicated  in  the  following 
letter  from  Dr.  Stephen  P.  Duggan,  Director  of  The 
Institute  of  International  Education.  Having  served 
for  a  number  of  years  as  a  member  of  the  Executive 
Committee  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene,  he  speaks  from  personal  knowledge. 

New  York  City, 
September  7,  19 16. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

As  the  work  done  by  you  in  connection  with  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  is  comparable 
to  that  done  for  the  insane  during  the  last  century  by 
Dorothea  Dix  and  by  Pinel  in  the  eighteenth  century, 
you  owe  it  to  your  readers  to  tell  the  story  of  the 
organizing  of  the  first  " societies  for  mental  hygiene" 
and  of  what  they  have  done  to  focus  the  attention  of 
the  public  on  the  great  problem  of  mental  health. 
This  I  say  advisedly,  for  even  I,  a  member  of  the 
Executive  Committee  of  the   National  Committee  for 


260  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

some  time  past,  did  not  learn  in  detail,  until  recently, 
of  your  unique  services  during  the  formative  period  of 
work. 

I  know  of  no  better  way  for  you  to  do  this  than 
by  quoting  some  of  the  many  letters  sent  to  you  by 
those  who  gave  moral  or  financial  support,  or  both, 
while  you  were  organizing  the  National  Committee 
and  stimulating  interest  in  the  mental  hygiene  move- 
ment in  general.  These  letters,  which  you  kindly  let  me 
read  when  I  asked  for  the  intimate  story  of  your  pioneer 
days  in  mental  hygiene  work,  not  only  held  my  attention, 
but  left  me  with  the  feeling  that  everything  I  could 
do  to  further  the  work  should  be  done.  It  seems  to  me 
that  others  privileged  to  read  the  opinions  mentioned 
will  be  similarly  affected,  with  benefit  to  the  cause. 

Permit  me  to  say  in  closing:  Do  not  hesitate  to  publish 
the  letters  in  which  complimentary  references  to  yourself 
appear.  One  cannot  speak  well  of  the  work  without 
thinking  well  of  the  man  who  had  the  moral  courage, 
persistency,  and  ability  to  make  this  important  work 
possible. 

Sincerely  yours, 
Stephen  P.  Duggan. 

The  first  step  toward  organizing  The  National  Com- 
mittee for  Mental  Hygiene  involved  the  securing  of  a 
publisher  for  my  book — no  easy  task  for  an  unknown 
writer,  with  an  unusual  subject.  To  this  end  I  sought 
both  literary  and  psychological  endorsement.  I  sur- 
prised the  late  Professor  Lounsbury,  in  one  of  whose 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  261 

classes  at  Yale  I  had  been  a  not-too-promising  stud- 
ent, by  appearing  before  him  ten  years  later  with  the 
manuscript  of  a  real  story.  The  letter  which  he  gave 
me  and  a  direct  introduction  from  Professor  William 
James  to  Mr.  Charles  J.  Mills,  of  Longmans,  Green  & 
Company,  helped  me  over  this  first  obstacle.  Professor 
Lounsbury's  letter  read  as  follows: 

New  Haven, 

March  24,  1907. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

I  have  gone  over  with  great  care  that  portion  of  your 
manuscript  which  you  let  me  have — amounting,  as  I 
understand,  to  about  one-half  of  the  whole — and  can 
testify  that  to  me  at  least  the  interest  of  the  narrative 
far  exceeds  that  of  any  novel  which  I  have  read  in  a  long, 
long  time.  It  strikes  me  indeed  as  being  something 
besides  a  truthful,  human  document;  it  is  a  well- told 
document,  which,  one  must  say  regretfully,  truthful 
documents  are  too  often  unapt  to  be.  I  do  not  believe, 
in  fact,  that  any  intelligent  person,  whose  attention 
has  been  called  to  the  subject,  will  lay  down  the  work 
willingly,  after  he  is  once  well  started  in  its  perusal. 
To  its  interest  I  can  testify  for  myself;  to  its  value  as  an 
inside  account  of  an  insane  person's  psychology,  after 
the  opinion  given  by  such  an  authority  as  Professor 
James,  nothing  further  can  properly  be  said  by  any 
one. 

Sincerely  yours, 
Thomas  R.  Lounsbury. 


262  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Professor  James's  letter  of  introduction  was  a  formal 
one.  His  initial  help  in  advancing  the  mental  hygiene 
movement  is  more  fully  stated  in  the  following  excerpt 
from  "The  Letters  of  William  James,"  edited  by  his 
son,  Henry  James,  and  published  in  1920.  One  of 
the  thrills  referred  to  on  a  preceding  page  came  to  me 
when  I  discovered,  upon  opening  the  second  volume  of 
the  "Letters/'  the  following  paragraphs: 

"The  next  letter  is  addressed  to  an  active  promoter  of 
reform  in  the  treatment  of  the  insane,  the  author  of 
'A  Mind  That  Found  Itself.'  The  Connecticut  Society 
for  Mental  Hygiene  and  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene  have  already  performed  so  great  a 
public  service  that  anyone  may  now  see  that  in  1907 
the  time  had  come  to  employ  such  instrumentalities  in 
improving  the  care  of  the  insane.  But  when  Mr.  Beers, 
just  out  of  an  'asylum'  himself,  appeared  with  the  man- 
uscript of  his  own  story  in  his  hands,  it  was  not  so 
clear  that  these  agencies  were  needed,  nor  yet  evident 
to  anyone  that  he  was  a  person  who  could  bring  about 
their  organization. 

"  James's  own  opinion  of  the  treatment  of  the  insane 
is  not  in  the  least  overstated  in  the  following  letter. 
He  recognized  the  genuineness  of  Mr.  Beers's  personal 
experience  and  its  value  for  propaganda,  and  he  imme- 
idately  helped  to  get  it  published.  From  his  first 
acquaintance  with  Mr.  Beers,  he  gave  time,  counsel, 
and  money  to  further  the  organization  of  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene;  and  he  even  departed, 
in  its  interest,  from  his  fixed  policy  of  'keeping  [outj]  of 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  263 

Committees  and  Societies.'  He  lived  long  enough  to 
know  that  the  movement  had  begun  to  gather  mo- 
mentum; and  he  drew  great  satisfaction  from  the 
knowledge." 

Cambridge,  Apr.  21,  1907. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

You  ask  for  my  opinion  as  to  the  advisability  and 
feasibility  of  a  National  Society,  such  as  you  propose, 
for  the  improvement  of  conditions  among  the  insane. 

I  have  never  ceased  to  believe  that  such  improvement 
is  one  of  the  most  'crying  needs'  of  civilization;  and 
the  functions  of  such  a  society  seem  to  me  to  be  well 
drawn  up  by  }^ou.  Your  plea  for  its  being  founded 
before  your  book  appears  is  well  grounded,  you  being 
an  author  who  naturally  would  like  to  cast  seed  upon 
ground  already  prepared  for  it  to  germinate  practically 
without  delay. 

I  have  to  confess  to  being  myself  a  very  impractical 
man,  with  no  experience  whatever  in  the  details,  dif- 
ficulties, etc.,  of  philanthropic  or  charity  organization, 
so  my  opinion  as  to  the  feasibility  of  your  plan  is  worth 
nothing,  and  is  undecided.  Of  course  the  first  considera- 
tion is  to  get  your  money,  the  second  your  Secretary 
and  Trustees.  All  that  /  wish  to  bear  witness  to  is  the 
great  need  of  a  National  Society  such  as  you  describe, 
or  failing  that,  of  a  society  somewhere  that  might 
serve  as  a  model  in  other  States. 

Nowhere  is  there  massed  together  as  much  suffering 
as  in  the  asylums.  Nowhere  is  there  so  much  sodden 
routine  and  fatalistic  insensibility  in  those  who  have  to 


264  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

treat  it.  Nowhere  is  an  ideal  treatment  more  costly. 
The  officials  in  charge  grow  resigned  to  the  conditions 
under  which  they  have  to  labor.  They  cannot  plead 
their  cause  as  an  auxiliary  organization  can  plead  it  for 
them.  Public  opinion  is  too  glad  to  remain  ignorant. 
As  mediator  between  officials,  patients  and  the  public 
conscience,  a  society  such  as  you  sketch  is  absolutely 
required  and  the  sooner  it  gets  under  way  the  better. 

Sincerely  yours, 

William  James. 

In  securing  the  endorsement  of  persons  who  could 
speak  with  authority,  it  was  not  only  desirable  to  be 
vouched  for  by  Professor  Lounsbury  and  by  Professor 
James,  who  held  commanding  positions  in  their  respective 
fields,  but  most  important  of  all,  perhaps,  that  I  should 
secure  the  approval  of  some  physician  who  had  made  a 
special  study  of  mental  diseases  and  had  first-hand 
knowledge  of  the  problem  of  State-care  of  the  insane. 
I  made  a  step  toward  securing  that  approval  when  I 
enlisted  the  interest  of  Dr.  Stewart  Paton,  who  had  not 
served  in  the  State-hospital  field,  but  was  a  psychiatrist 
of  note.  Under  date  of  May  30th,  1907,  he  wrote  as 
follows: 

"It  is  needless  to  say  that  you  have  my  best  wishes 
for  success  in  your  undertaking.  After  reading  the  man- 
uscript you  so  kindly  sent  me,  I  feel  sure  intelligent  peo- 
ple will  listen  to  your  appeal  and  take  an  active  interest 
in  this  work.  Surely  you  will  be  a  public  benefactor  if 
you  succeed  in  realizing  your  ideals." 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  265 

Dr.  Paton  told  me  that  Dr.  Adolf  Meyer,  then  Director 
of  the  Psychiatric  Institute  of  the  New  York  State 
Hospitals  at  Ward's  Island,  New  York  City,  who  later 
became  Director  of  the  Phipps  Psychiatric  Clinic  at  the 
Johns  Hopkins  Hospital,  Baltimore,  was  the  one  man  of 
all  others  in  his  special  field  whose  support  should,  if 
possible,  be  secured.  Through  the  courtesy  of  Dr.  Paton, 
I  was  able  to  submit  to  Dr.  Meyer  the  page  proof  of  my 
book  and  outline  my  plans.  This  proved  to  be  a  most 
fortunate  occurrence  as  Dr.  Meyer  for  a  long  time  had 
wished  that  some  organized  auxiliary  movement  for 
better  care  and  treatment  for  the  insane  and  for  the 
prevention  of  mental  disorders  might  be  inaugurated  in 
this  country.  He  and  I,  therefore,  at  once  began  to 
collaborate. 

It  is  interesting  to  note  that  when  Dr.  Meyer  and  I  first 
met  in  September,  1907,  he  was  at  a  loss  to  find  the  word 
or  words  that  would  express  not  only  the  idea  of  ameliora- 
tion of  conditions  among  the  insane,  but  also  the  idea 
of  prevention  of  mental  disorders.  A  few  days  later, 
however,  he  informed  me  that  "mental  hygiene"  was 
the  term  needed  for  the  purpose  in  view.  This  was  a 
happy  choice — almost  a  stroke  of  genius  in  the  devis- 
ing of  descriptive  titles.  Not  only  did  "  mental  hygiene  " 
describe  the  work  as  originally  planned ;  it  will  continue 
to  describe  it  accurately  regardless  of  its  growth. 

It  was  Dr.  Meyer  who,  because  of  his  profound 
knowledge  of  the  scientific,  medical  and  social  problems 
involved,  did  more  than  anyone  else  to  place  its  initial 
work   on  a  sound   basis.    After  my  manuscript  and 


266  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

plans  had  been  carefully  examined  by  him,  he  sent  me 
the  following  letter,  which  helped  secure  the  co-operation 
of  other  psychiatrists  and  hospital  officials  whose  support 
at  that  time  was  so  essential  to  success: 

New  York  City, 
October  27,  1907. 
To  Whom  It  May  Concern: 

Since  about  a  month  ago,  when  Mr.  C.  W.  Beers  was 
introduced  to  me  by  Dr.  Stewart  Paton,  I  have  had  an 
unusual  experience  in  finding  in  him  a  man  not  only 
without  a  chip  on  his  shoulder,  but  one  with  a  sound  and 
worthy  conviction  that  something  must  be  done  to  meet 
one  of  the  most  difficult,  but  also  lamentably  neglected 
problems  of  sociological  improvement.  Unlike  so  many 
ex-patients  to  whose  efforts  we  owe  in  many  ways  the 
preposterous  forms  of  legislation  concerning  the  insane 
and  many  prejudices  about  the  hospitals,  Mr.  Beers  has 
given  us  a  description  of  his  personal  experiences,  has- 
pointed  out  his  own  impressions  and  suggestions  for 
remedy  and  has  asked  for  advice  with  an  open  mind, 
with  such  willingness  to  accept  and  use  new  conceptions 
of  matters  not  broadly  enough  viewed  by  him  before 
that  it  looks  as  if  we  had  at  last  what  we  need:  a  man 
for  a  cause.  The  difficulties  to  be  met  are  such  as  to  be 
unsurmountable  to  anyone  who  has  not  the  personal 
experience  and  instinctive  foundation  for  what  must 
equal  a  religious  vow  of  devotion  of  his  life  to  a  task 
before  which  others  have  become  opportunistic,  if  not 
indifferent. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  267 

Mr.  Beers  plans  to  subordinate  his  activity  to  a  body 
of  men  and  women  who  shall  be  chosen  by  a  temporary 
Board  of  Trustees  of  the  cause.  It  will  be  a  difficult  task 
to  find  the  not  very  common  level-headed  and  well- 
informed  persons  in  various  parts  of  the  country  capable 
of  organizing  the  public  conscience  of  the  people. 
Neglected  by  physicians  and  dreaded  by  the  fiscal 
authorities,  the  facts  are  not  available  to-day,  except  in 
fragments,  mixed  up  with  innumerable  extraneous  con- 
siderations; the  hospitals  are  closed  corporations,  the 
press  injudicious  in  inquiry  and  reform,  and  those 
capable  of  judgment  unable  to  get  the  facts.  The 
crying  needs  persist  in  the  meantime.  Instead  of  a 
Federal  land  fund  (the  12,225,000  acres  bill  and  ideal  of 
Dorothea  Dix,  which  failed  of  adoption  by  Congress) 
we  must  have  a  permanent  survey  of  the  facts  and 
efficient  handling  of  what  is  not  prevented.  Informa- 
tion must  be  put  into  practical  form  for  communication 
and  teaching,  and  brought  home  where  it  will  tell;  in 
opportunities  of  work  and  education  for  physicians 
and  co-operation  between  our  educational  forces  and 
those  who  labor  for  physical  hygiene  and  prophylaxis. 

Most  of  us  are  already  under  too  many  definite  obli- 
gations to  meet  the  call  for  devoted  work  for  the  main- 
tenance of  an  organization  as  well  as  can  Mr.  Beers. 
In  my  judgment,  he  deserves  the  assistance  which  will 
make  it  possible  for  others  to  join  in  the  work  which 
will  be  one  of  the  greatest  achievements  of  this  country 
and  of  this  century — less  sensational  than  the  breaking 


268  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

of  chains,  but  more  far-reaching  and  also  more  exacting 
in  labor. 

A  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene,  with  a  capable  and 
devoted  and  judicious  agent  of  organization,  will  put  an 
end  to  the  work  of  makeshift  and  short-sighted  oppor- 
tunism, and  initiate  work  of  prevention  and  of  helping 
the  existing  hospitals  to  attain  what  they  should  attain, 
and  further  of  adding  those  links  which  are  needed  to  put 
an  end  to  conditions  almost  unfit  for  publication. 
What  officialism  will  never  do  alone  must  be  helped 
along  by  an  organized  body  of  persons  who  have  set 
their  hearts  on  serious  devotion  to  the  cause. 

If  Mr.  Beers  gets  the  means  to  pursue  his  aim,  he  will 
secure  the  body  which  will  guarantee  proper  judgment  in 
a  cause  which  has  been  a  mere  foster-child  in  the  field  of 
charitable  donations  merely  because  it  seemed  too  diffi- 
cult. Here  is  a  man  who  is  not  afraid  of  the  task.  May 
he  get  the  help  to  enable  him  to  surround  himself  with 
the  best  wisdom  of  our  Nation! 

Adolf  Meyer. 

Having  thus  secured  needed  moral  support,  my  next 
task  was  to  find  financial  support.  In  this  Mr.  Anson 
Phelps  Stokes,  at  that  time  Secretary  of  Yale  University, 
was  one  of  my  most  active  and  helpful  advisers.  During 
the  summer  of  1907,  he  placed  my  manuscript  before 
Mr.  Frederick  T.  Gates,  who  then  (before  the  Rockefeller 
Foundation  was  established)  had  almost  exclusive  charge 
of  Mr.  Rockefeller's  philanthropies.  Under  date  of 
October  30th,  1907,  Mr.  Gates  wrote  to  me  as  follows: 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  269 

"  I  am  sending  you  herewith  by  express,  at  the  request 
of  Mr.  Anson  Phelps  Stokes,  the  manuscript  copy  of 
your  forthcoming  work,  which  I  have  read  with  the 
deepest  interest.  I  am  very  glad  to  learn  from  your 
recent  letter  to  Mr.  Stokes  that  you  will  publish  soon. 
I  have  no  doubt  that  your  work  will  become  a  classic  in 
its  line,  and  if  properly  launched  it  will  have  a  great  and 
immediate  popular  success  and  produce  a  profound 
impression  throughout  the  country." 

Though  the  sending  of  my  book  to  Mr.  Gates  at  this 
time,  and  to  others  connected  with  Mr.  Rockefeller's 
philanthropies,  had  no  immediate  effect  on  the  financial 
situation,  the  fact  remains  that  the  Rockefeller  Founda- 
tion, established  subsequently,  later  contributed  liberally 
to  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  when  its 
plans  for  surveys  and  special  studies  had  been  more 
definitely  formulated. 

As  was  to  be  expected,  the  first  person  I  invited  to 
become  a  member  of  the  National  Committee  was 
William  James.     His  acceptance  follows: 

Cambridge,  November  23,  1907. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

I  gladly  consent  to  serve  as  an  honorary  trustee  of  your 
Society  for  Mental  Hygiene. 

I  understand  that  our  duties  are  primarily  to  let  our 
names  serve  as  evidence  for  our  belief  in  the  utility  of 
such  an  auxiliary  organization  as  your  book  proposes; 
secondarily  to  appoint  the  working  committee,  secretary, 


270  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

etc.,  when  the  thing  reaches  its  working  stage;  and, 
finally,  to  act  as  general  court  of  appeal  in  questions  of 
policy  about  which  the  eventual  active  trustees  might 
be  in  doubt. 

I  hope  that  most  of  the  gentlemen  whom  you  have 
thought  of  as  possible  trustees  will  feel  as  I  do,  that  it  is 
not  only  a  duty,  but  a  privilege  to  promote  so  humane  a 
cause. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Wm.  James. 

As  the  work  in  view  was  to  be,  in  part,  an  educa- 
tional campaign,  I  sought  the  support  of  some  of  the 
high  officials  of  various  universities.  One  of  the  first 
of  these  to  accept  membership  in  the  National  Com- 
mittee was  Professor  Russell  H.  Chittenden,  Director  of 
the  Sheffield  Scientific  School  of  Yale  University,  who 
wrote  as  follows,  under  date  of  December  5th,  1907 : 

"  I  am  in  receipt  of  your  letter  of  December  4th,  asking 
me  to  serve  as  one  of  the  Honorary  Trustees  of  the  Society 
for  Mental  Hygiene,  about  to  be  established.  Having 
read  the  manuscript  of  your  forthcoming  book,  I  have 
been  much  impressed  by  the  story  of  your  personal 
experiences,  and  I  believe  that  much  good  can  be  accom- 
plished for  humanity  by  such  a  society  as  is  contem- 
plated. My  knowledge  of  the  underlying  facts  of  your 
story,  as  related  to  me  from  time  to  time,  at  the  date  of 
their  occurrence,  by  your  brother,  has  given  to  me  a 
realization  of  the  truthfulness  of  the  account  of  your 
personal  experiences,  and  as  a  result  I  have  been  the 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  271 

more  strongly  impressed  with  the  necessity  for  some 
movement  tending  to  betterment  of  the  conditions  under 
which  the  insane  are  forced  to  live.  A  fuller  under- 
standing of  methods  of  treatment  such  as  can  be  fostered 
by  a  Society  of  the  kind  contemplated  will  do  much 
toward  improving  the  conditions  of  this  unfortunate 
class.  I  trust  that  you  will  succeed  in  the  efforts  you  are 
making." 

Miss  Julia  C.  Lathrop,  then  of  Hull  House,  Chicago, 
later  Chief  of  the  Children's  Bureau  at  Washington, 
wrote  as  follows,  under  date  of  January  2nd,  1908: 

1 1  have  devoted  my  spare  time  yesterday  and  to-day 
to  reading  the  proof  of  your  book.  The  autobiography 
is  a  most  touching  and  appealing  document.  I  earnestly 
hope  that  its  admirable  literary  form  may  secure  for  it 
the  wide  reading  so  desirable  for  your  purpose. 

' '  I  have  felt  for  some  time  that  a  national  society  for 
the  study  of  insanity  and  its  treatment,  from  the  social 
as  well  as  the  merely  medical  standpoint,  should  be 
formed.  I  am  glad  to  follow  in  the  line  you  have  indi- 
cated and  to  have  my  name  appear  as  one  of  the  hon- 
orary trustees.  I  have  talked  with  Miss  Addams  and 
she  has  agreed  to  the  use  of  her  name  and  will  so  inform 
you  soon  by  letter. 

i  I  see  many  indications  of  a  strong  revival  of  interest 
in  the  care  of  the  insane  and  I  cannot  but  believe  that 
we  shall  within  a  few  years  see  them  treated  generally 
as  sick  persons." 

Dr.  August  Hoch,  at   one  time  Clinical  Director  at 


272  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Bloomingdale  Hospital  and  later  Director  of  the  Psychi- 
atric Institute  of  the  New  York  State  Hospitals,  Ward's 
Island,  New  York,  through  whose  death  a  few  years  later 
psychiatry  lost  one  of  its  ablest  leaders,  wrote  as  follows, 
under  date  of  January  4th,  1908: 

'  Your  letter  reached  me  yesterday,  and  your  book  this 
morning.  I  have  just  spent  several  hours  reading  the 
latter,  not  only  the  parts  to  which  you  called  my  atten- 
tion especially,  but  others  as  well.  What  I  have  read  is 
extremely  interesting,  not  only  psychologically,  but  in  its 
broad  bearing  as  well,  which  you  so  fully  appreciate. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  a  society  such  as  you  propose 
could  do  much  to  stimulate  progress  in  the  care  and 
treatment  of  the  insane,  as  well  as  in  the  study  and 
teaching  of  psychiatry  in  this  country.  In  all  these 
branches  much  is  yet  to  be  done.  The  time  for  your 
undertaking  is  ripe. 

I  highly  appreciate  your  kindness  in  asking  me  to  be 
a  trustee  of  the  society  and  I  gladly  accept  your  offer, 
assuring  you  at  the  same  time  that  I  shall  cheerfully  do 
whatever  lies  in  my  power  to  assist  in  a  cause  in  which  I 
am  naturally  deeply  interested.  I  wish  you  success  in 
your  undertaking. " 

A  letter  from  Dr.  William  L.  Russell,  one  of  my  earliest 
advisers,  who  for  a  number  of  years  served  as  Medical 
Inspector  of  the  New  York  State  Hospital  Commission, 
and  later  became  Medical  Director  of  Bloomingdale 
Hospital,  read  as  follows,  under  date  of  January  16th, 
1908: 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  273 

"  I  need  scarcely  tell  you  that  I  have  been  intensely 
interested  by  the  proof  sheets  of  your  book.  I  have 
read  every  word,  and  much  I  would  gladly  read  again 
as,  ind  ed,  I  certainly  shall  as  soon  as  the  work  is  pub- 
lished. You  are  quite  right  in  thinking  that  an  aroused 
public  sentiment  is  necessary  to  effect  any  great  improve- 
ments in  the  care  of  the  insane.  Without  this,  even 
earnest  and  enlightened  workers  cannot  either  obtain 
sufficient  funds  or  eliminate  selfishness  and  inefficiency 
in  applying  them.  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  condi- 
tions in  this  State  are  rather  better  than  in  most  others. 
We  see,  however,  many  defects,  and  I  most  sincerely 
trust  that  your  efforts  will  be  rewarded  with  success." 

Early  in  January,  1908,  largely  upon  the  advice 
of  Mr.  George  McAneny  of  New  York,  who  had  had 
wide  experience  as  an  organizer,  it  was  decided  to 
limit  the  membership  of  the  society,  make  it  a  "  Com- 
mittee, "  rather  than  an  " Association"  with  a  general 
membership,  and  call  it  "The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene."  This  was  done,  as  the  task  in  hand 
was  a  very  special  and,  in  many  ways,  delicate  one. 
Furthermore,  it  was  believed  that  the  National  Com- 
mittee could  not  at  first  appeal  for  general  members 
without,  perhaps,  diverting  support  that  would  be 
needed  by  the  affiliated  State  Societies  for  Mental 
Hygiene  which  it  planned  to  create. 

Dr.  Jacob  Gould  Schurman,  for  many  years  President 
of  Cornell  University,  wrote  as  follows,  under  date  of 
February  21st,  1908: 


274  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

"  I  have  now  read  all  the  pages  which  you  set  apart  for 
my  consideration.  Let  me  say  that  they  have  interested 
me  immensely.  It  is  a  most  extraordinary  thing  to  have 
a  book  written  under  such  circumstances.  If  there  is 
anything  like  it  in  the  history  of  literature,  I  am  not 
acquainted  with  it.  And  then,  apart  from  the  circum- 
stance that  we  have  in  this  volume  an  account  of  insanity 
by  the  sufferer  himself,  I  have  been  greatly  impressed 
with  the  author's  lucidity  of  style,  poise  of  judgment, 
and  variety  of  knowledge  outside  his  own  special  field, 
as  well  as  the  reformatory  zeal  with  which  he  addresses 
himself  to  the  problem  of  the  intelligent  and  humane 
treatment  of  the  insane. 

"  I  should  predict  for  the  book  a  great  success,  merely 
as  a  piece  of  literature.  I  earnestly  hope  it  will  go  a  long 
way  towards  accomplishing  the  reformatory  object  to 
which  it  is  dedicated.  And  if  you  think  I  can  be  of  help 
in  that  direction,  I  shall  certainly  be  very  glad  to  accede 
to  your  request  to  serve  as  an  honorary  member  of  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  as  outlined  in 
your  letter. 

1  With  congratulations  on  your  remarkable  achieve- 
ment, and  with  all  good  wishes  for  the  success  of  the 
cause  you  have  so  much  at  heart,  a  cause  with  which  I 
have  had  a  little  experience  as  Visitor  of  the  New  York 
State  Charities  Aid  Association  to  the  State  Hospital  at 
Willard,  I  remain,  Very  sincerely  yours." 

Dr.  W.  H.  P.  Faunce,  President  of  Brown  University, 
under  date  of  February  24th,  1908,  wrote  as  follows: 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  275 

"  Surely  no  one  can  read  your  manuscript  without  sym- 
pathy and  without  being  fascinated  by  its  clear  presenta- 
tion of  a  remarkable  experience.  I  shall  be  glad  to  serve 
as  one  of  your  honorary  trustees  and  hope  that  much 
good  will  come  from  the  organization  of  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene. " 

Having  secured  the  support  of  more  than  thirty  repre- 
sentative men  and  women  who  were  willing  to  serve  as 
original  members,  I  now  felt  secure  in  placing  my  book 
before  the  public.  It  was  published  on  March  16th,  1908, 
and  immediately  attracted  wide  and  favorable  attention 
— if  the  reviews  which  appeared  in  more  than  one  hun- 
dred newspapers  and  periodicals  in  this  country  and 
Great  Britain  may  be  taken  as  a  criterion. 

When  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself"  was  published, 
the  projected  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 
could  have  been  founded  at  once.  This,  however, 
did  not  occur  until  February  19th,  1909,  as  it  was 
thought  best  that  a  State  Society  should  first  be  estab- 
lished by  way  of  experiment  on  a  smaller  scale.  There- 
fore the  Connecticut  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene,  which 
began  its  work  on  May  6th,  1908,  was  founded.  While 
serving  as  its  Executive  Secretary  and  developing  its 
work  and  financial  resources,  I  continued  to  enlist  sup- 
port for  the  National  Committee.  With  bound  copies 
of  my  book  now  available  and  a  collection  of  favorable 
opinions  in  my  possession,  my  task  became  easier.  That 
is,  it  was  easy  to  gain  moral  support.  Securing  funds 
for  the  work,  however,  was  difficult.     I  therefore  con- 


276  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

turned  my  efforts  to  secure  not  only  acceptances  of 
membership,  but  opinions  likely  to  influence  potential 
donors. 

That  those  who  accepted  membership  in  the  National 
Committee  became  more  interested  in  its  plans  the  more 
they  studied  them,  is  indicated  by  Dr.  Schurman's 
second  letter  of  March  27th,  1908,  which  follows: 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  very  cordially  for  your  book.  I 
have  now  read  it  through.  It  is  a  wonderful  volume — 
whether  one  considers  its  contents  or  the  circumstances  of 
its  origin — and  I  find  it  intensely  interesting.  I  found 
myself  constantly  admiring  your  literary  gifts.  And 
it  is  curious  to  reflect  that  they  might  never  have  come  to 
a  birth  but  for  your  domicile  in  a  hospital  for  the  insane. 
It  is  the  last  place  in  the  world  one  would  have  selected 
as  a  school  of  liberal  culture,  yet  in  your  case  it  meant  a 
good  deal  more  for  your  literary  development  than  a 
college  does  for  the  generality  of  the  students. 

"  I  need  not  say  that  the  recital  of  the  sufferings  you 
endured  deeply  stirred  my  sympathy  and  at  the  same 
time  aroused  my  indignation.  It  is  clear  there  is  need 
for  reform.  And  I  suppose  no  other  man  is  so  competent 
to  undertake  it  as  yourself. 

"  I  take  the  liberty  also  of  making  a  suggestion  to  your- 
self. You  must  not  expect  too  sudden  or  too  great  a 
reform.  Even  good  causes  make  their  way  slowly  in 
this  rough  workaday  world.  You  conceived  your  voca- 
tion as  a  reformer  while  you  were  a  patient  in  the  hospital. 
And  as  I  read  your  book,  I  sometimes  thought  you  enter" 
tained  too  extravagant  hopes  in  regard  to  actual  achieve- 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  277 

ment.  And  so  I  feel  like  saying  to  you  that  you  must 
not  be  disappointed  if  you  find  things  moving  slowly  and 
gradually. 

'  You  will  not  infer  from  what  I  have  said  that  my  own 
interest  has  been  lessened  by  reading  your  book.  On  the 
contrary,  it  has  been  greatly  increased,  and  I  should  be 
glad  to  aid  so  good  a  cause  in  any  way  in  my  power. 

'  With  kindest  regards  and  with  congratulations  on 
your  production  of  so  wonderful  a  book." 

In  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  a  complimentary  copy 
of  my  book,  sent  apparently  at  the  psychological  moment, 
the  late  Mr.  Jacob  A.  Riis,  under  date  of  April  3rd,  1908, 
said: 

"  A  woman,  to  whom  a  year  or  two  ago  I  gave  a  lift  that 
helped  open  the  bars  of  the  worse  than  prison  in  which  she 
was  confined  without  just  cause,  came  into  my  office, 
the  other  day,  with  tears  in  her  eyes  and  asked  me  to 
read  your  book,  which  she  hailed  as  the  promise  of 
freedom  for,  she  said,  'countless  hundreds'  of  men  and 
women  as  unfortunate  as  she  was.  And  now  to-day  I 
found  it  upon  my  desk.  I  shall  read  it — I  know  already 
from  the  reviews  what  to  expect — and  I  hope  my  poor 
friend  is  right.  Meanwhile  let  me  thank  you  very 
heartily  for  your  gift.  The  world  is  so  busy  that  it  passes 
such  suffering  by  unheeding  because  it  'has  not  time' 
to  heed.  If  your  book  shall  make  it  stop  and  pause,  you 
have  certainly  rendered  a  service  to  your  day  that  ought 
to  be  a  monument  indeed.    We  will  all  help." 

On  April  10th,  1908,  Mr.  Riis  wrote  again,  as  follows: 


278  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

"  I  have  nearly  finished  your  book  and  I  am  quite  ready 
to  help,  for  I  see  it  is  needed.  My  friend  was  right,  and 
in  losing  your  reason  you  found,  I  hope,  ours  for  us  in 
this  pitiful  matter." 

Dr.  M.  Allen  Starr,  formerly  Professor  of  Neurology 
at  Columbia  University,  under  date  of  April  nth,  1908, 
said: 

"  I  have  read  with  much  interest  your  book  which  you 
so  kindly  sent  me.  It  is  a  wonderful  record,  interesting 
from  the  psychological  analysis  of  your  mental  condition, 
and  most  important  as  a  protest  against  the  bad  nursing 
and  inefficient  medical  direction  prevalent  in  our 
asylums,  especially  the  private  ones.  I  have  had  only 
too  many  instances  in  my  own  experience  which  sub- 
stantiate all  the  arraignment  you  make. 

'  You  have  my  sincere  sympathy  for  your  sufferings — 
and  if  any  definite  steps  are  taken  in  the  line  of  reform 
in  which  I  can  help,  you  will  have  my  hearty  support." 

In  seeking  advice  as  to  the  best  way  to  organize  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  I  naturally 
consulted  those  in  charge  of  the  work  of  similar  organiza- 
tions. Dr.  Livingston  Farrand,  then  the  Executive 
Secretary  of  The  National  Tuberculosis  Association,  now 
President  of  Cornell  University,  wrote  as  follows,  under 
date   of  April  25th,  1908: 

"  I  read  your  book  last  night.  The  best  proof  of  my 
interest  is  that  I  finished  it  before  going  to  bed.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  striking  and  convincing  documents  that 
I  have  ever  seen. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  279 

"  I  have  long  felt  that  one  of  the  most  important  phases 
of  the  present  great  movement  in  the  direction  of  prevent- 
ive medicine,  and  at  the  same  time  one  of  the  most 
neglected,  is  that  of  mental  hygiene.  There  is  no  doubt 
at  all  that  very  great  good  could  be  accomplished  by  an 
educational  campaign  dealing  with  the  causes,  prevention 
and  adequate  treatment  of  abnormal  mental  conditions. 
I  do  not  believe  that  there  could  be  a  better  means  of 
engaging  public  interest  than  by  making  an  attack  upon 
the  present  shocking  abuses  in  the  treatment  of  the  insane 
the  peg  upon  which  to  hang  the  broad  educational  move- 
ment, which,  after  all,  is  the  object  of  chief  importance. 
After  thinking  over  your  propositions  with  some  care,  I 
see  no  reason  why  a  national  movement  such  as  that  you 
plan  should  not  be  entirely  successful,  and  I  am  writing 
not  only  to  thank  you  for  the  stimulus  which  your  book 
has  given  me  personally,  but  to  assure  you  of  hearty 
co-operation  wherever  possible  in  assisting  such  a  move- 
ment. You  have  my  very  best  wishes  and  renewed 
assurances  of  my  co-operation." 

On  many  occasions  Dr.  William  H.  Welch,  the  ac- 
knowledged leader  of  the  medical  profession  in  this 
country,  Dean  of  the  School  of  Hygiene  at  Johns 
Hopkins  University,  rendered  great  assistance.  Under 
date    of    May  24th,  1908,  he  wrote  as  follows: 

'  I  am  glad  to  see  that  your  efforts  are  beginning  to  be 
fruitful  and  that  State  and  National  Societies  are  to  be 
formed  to  carry  on  the  work. 

'  Your  book,  which  you  kindly  sent  me,  I  read  with 


280  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

great  interest,  and  do  not  see  how  it  can  fail  to  be  of 
great  service.  So  far  as  I  have  observed,  its  reception 
both  in  the  medical  profession  and  by  the  general  public 
has  been  sympathetic  and  encouraging.  My  copy  has 
been  loaned  to  several  friends  upon  whom  it  has  made  a 
strong  impression. 

"  I  hope  that  you  will  continue  to  lay  special  emphasis 
upon  the  need  of  psychopathic  hospitals  and  wards  in 
connection  with  general  hospitals,  and  especially  with  the 
university  medical  school.  The  greatest  need  is  for 
improved  care  and  treatment  of  early  and  curable  cases 
of  mental  derangement  and  for  border-land  cases  which 
can  be  prevented  from  passing  into  the  insane  state; 
also  for  better  instruction  of  students  and  physicians 
in  psychiatry.  These  needs  will  be  met  by  psychiatric 
institutions  in  connection  with  general  hospitals  and 
university  clinics  better  than  by  the  familiar  type  of 
hospitals  for  the  insane  existing  in  this  country." 

Letters  directly  to  the  originator  of  a  plan  are  apt 
to  avoid  the  expression  of  mental  reservations,  if  such 
are  held  by  the  writers.  That  the  endorsements  I  had 
received  were  entirely  genuine,  however,  could  hardly 
be  doubted  after  reading  one  that  was  not  meant  for 
my  eyes,  but  which  I  was  privileged  to  see  and  am 
now  permitted  to  publish.  It  was  sent  under  date  of 
June  8th,  1908,  by  Mr.  Wicklifle  Rose,  Director-General 
of  The  International  Health  Board  of  The  Rockefeller 
Foundation,  to  the  Rev.  G.  S.  Dickerman,  D.D.,  of 
New  Haven,  who  later  forwarded  it  to  me.     To  quote: 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  281 

"  I  read  Mr.  Beers's  book  with  the  most  intense  in- 
terest. To  me  it  is  a  remarkable  work.  It  impresses  me 
as  a  bit  of  genuine  literature,  remarkably  well  written  and 
revealing  what  is  to  me  a  new  field  of  human  experience. 
It  is  convincing  to  a  degree  and  left  me  with  the  feeling 
that  I  should  like  to  do  something  to  remedy  the  condi- 
tions which  he  so  vividly  portrays. 

"  I  am  handing  the  book  to  friends,  and  hope  to  keep  it 
traveling  on  its  mission.  I  wish  to  thank  you  for  calling 
my  attention  to  it." 

On  July  10th,  1908,  Dr.  William  H.  Welch  sent  me  a 
letter  telling  me  that  my  book  had  played  a  part  in  the 
negotiations  with  Mr.  Henry  Phipps  that  led  to  the  estab- 
lishing of  a  Psychiatric  Clinic  at  the  Johns  Hopkins 
Hospital.  Thus  I  had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that 
another  of  my  objects,  as  presented  in  the  first  edi- 
tion of  my  autobiography,  was  being  achieved.  Dr. 
Welch  wrote  in  part  as  follows : 

"  I  knew  that  none  would  rejoice  more  than  you  at  the 
good  news,  and  you  may  look  upon  the  benefaction  as 
one  of  the  fruits  of  your  efforts.  Mr.  Phipps  became 
interested  in  the  subject  as  the  result  of  some  remarks 
which  I  made  at  the  time  of  a  visit  in  May  to  see  the 
workings  of  the  dispensary  for  tuberculous  patients  which 
he  has  established  in  connection  with  the  Johns  Hopkins 
Hospital.  These  remarks  were  incidental  and  without 
thought  of  making  an  appeal  to  him.  Shortly  after  his 
return  to  New  York  I  received  a  letter  saying  that  he  was 
interested  in  what  I  had  said  about  thejneed  of  improved 


282  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

care  of  the  insane  and  desired  further  information.  I 
then  wrote  him  rather  fully  about  the  need  of  an  insti- 
tution such  as  those  known  in  Germany  as  psychiatric 
clinics,  and  it  will  interest  you  to  know  that  among 
other  pamphlets,  etc.,  I  sent  him  my  copy  of  your  book, 
in  which  I  marked  many  passages.  His  son,  Mr.  John  S. 
Phipps,  who  was  in  his  father's  councils  in  this  matter, 
also  procured  a  copy  of  your  book. 

"  When  I  told  Mr.  Phipps  later  how  pleased  you  would 
be  with  his  gift,  especially  as  I  could  say  that  your  book 
had  influenced  him,  he  himself  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
this.  I  told  the  reporters  also  about  this  feature,  and 
mention  of  you  and  the  book  was  made  in  the  Balti- 
more papers,  although  not  with  as  much  detail  as  should 
have  been  the  case,  if  they  had  reported  my  remarks 
more  fully  and  accurately. 

"  I  want  you  to  know  these  facts,  as  they  must  be  a 
great  encouragement  and  gratification  to  you.  The 
Phipps  Psychiatric  Clinic  will,  I  think,  be  in  a  measure 
a  fulfillment  of  your  dreams." 

As  Mr.  Phipps  had  shown  so  convincingly  that  he  was 
interested  in  improving  the  treatment  of  mental  diseases, 
he  was  invited  to  become  a  member  of  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  which  invitation  he 
readily  accepted.  Here  at  last  was  a  man  who,  when  he 
understood  the  needs  of  the  organization,  would,  I 
believed,  give  financial  as  well  as  moral  support. 
Of  moral  support,  the  National  Committee  had  a 
great  deal;   of   financial  support    it    had    very   little. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  283 

Indeed,  its  only  financial  support  was  that  which  I 
gave  it  indirectly  through  loans  made  to  me,  per- 
sonally. Though  I  could  ill  afford  to  assume  these 
obligations,  the  fact  that  the  National  Committee  was 
not  yet  organized  and  had  no  funds  for  preliminary 
expenses  made  it  necessary  for  me  to  do  so.  There 
was  one  loan,  however,  made  to  me  by  Professor 
William  James  which  he  converted  into  a  contribution 
toward  the  initial  expenses  of  organization.  I  had 
written  Mr.  James  for  advice  regarding  the  advisability 
of  asking  Mr.  Phipps  to  "take  over"  the  debts  I  had 
incurred  in  organizing  the  National  Committee  and  to 
trust  me  or  the  organization  to  repay  him  later.  In 
giving  my  reasons  for  wishing  to  appeal  to  Mr.  Phipps 
for  assistance,  I  had  unwittingly  appealed  to  Mr.  James, 
who,  until  now,  had  not  been  told  of  my  debts.  As  I 
was  innocent  of  any  intention  of  securing  help  from  Mr. 
James — one  does  not  think  of  a  university  professor  as 
being  in  a  position  to  play  the  role  of  philanthropist — I 
found  it  possible  to  accept  his  gift,  so  generously  offered 
in  the  following  letter : 

London,  August  16,  1908. 
Dear  Beers: 

You  seem  to  be  doing  splendidly,  and  I  should  be  a 
caitif  not  to  chip  in  to  the  taxes  which  you  have  so  nobly 
piled  upon  your  head.  So  I  enclose  to  you  an  order  on 
Lee  Higginson  &  Co.  of  Boston  for  $1,000  to  which  extent 
I  am  only  too  willing  to  bleed  for  the  cause.  So  you 
need  not  think  of  paying  me  till  you  become  a  million- 
aire yourself!    I  wish  I  could  contribute  more  to  relieve 


284  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND   ITSELF 

you  of  your  indebtedness.  I  can  easily  contribute  this. 
In  October  I  shall  be  home  and  glad  to  perform  whatever 
duties  my  place  as  committeeman  of  the  National 
Society  may  call  for." 

In  a  subsequent  letter,  Mr.  James  said  he  thought  it 
proper  for  me  to  submit  a  statement  of  the  organizing 
expenses  to  Mr.  Phipps,  but  I  finally  decided  not  to  do 
so,  fearing  I  might  in  some  way  diminish  the  chance  of 
securing  from  him,  later,  substantial  support  for  the 
active  work  of  the  National  Committee. 

Though  I  usually  wrote  directly  to  those  whose  interest 
in  the  work  I  desired  to  enlist,  on  occasion  I  chose  to 
present  my  request  indirectly.  I  used  that  method  of 
approach  when  I  invited  His  Eminence,  the  late  Car- 
dinal Gibbons,  to  serve  as  a  member  of  the  National 
Committee,  for  I  knew  that  Dr.  Welch  was  willing 
to  support  my  request.  The  following  letters  explain 
themselves : 

807  St.  Paul  Street,  Baltimore, 
November  27,  1908. 
To  His  Eminence,  James,  Cardinal  Gibbons, 

Dear  Cardinal  Gibbons: 

I  am  writing  this  line  in  the  hope  that  you  may 
become  sufficiently  interested  in  Mr.  Clifford  W.  Beers 
and  his  remarkable  book  to  be  willing  to  encourage  the 
national  movement  in  behalf  of  improved  care  and 
treatment  of  the  insane,  and  of  better  mental  hygiene  in 
general. 

Mr.  Beers's  book,  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself,"  has 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  285 

made  a  profound  impression  upon  the  medical  profession 
as  well  as  upon  the  general  public. 

You  will  observe  that  Mr.  Beers  has  secured  the  sup- 
port of  eminent  men  in  the  movement  which  he  has  ini- 
tiated. I  feel  confident  that  you  would  do  a  great 
service  toward  better  care  of  the  mentally  afflicted,  if  you 
should  be  willing  to  lend  your  name  in  support  of  the 
national  society  to  effect  this  purpose. 

With  the  highest  respect,  I  am 

Faithfully  yours, 
William  H.  Welch. 

Archdiocese  of  Maryland 

Chancery  Office 
408  North  Charles  Street, 
November  18,  1909, 
My  Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

Some  months  ago  your  work,  "A  Mind  That  Found 
Itself,"  fell  into  my  hands.  I  read  it  with  profound 
interest.  To  me  it  is  a  wonderful  book.  I  scarcely 
remember  ever  having  read  anything  which  stirred  me 
so  deeply,  or  left  upon  my  memory  stronger  or  more 
vivid  impressions.  Its  revelations  of  the  sufferings  and 
the  tortures  which  the  mentally  afflicted  have  been 
doomed  to  undergo  must  touch  even  the  hardest  nature, 
and  arouse  compassion  in  every  breast.  Its  purpose 
therefore  is  a  noble  one,  and  I  have  not  the  slightest 
hesitation  in  accepting  your  invitation  to  enroll  my  name 
among  the  members  of  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene,  which  is  at  present  being  organized. 


286  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Indeed  this  movement  to  mitigate  the  sufferings  and 
agonies  of  this  class  of  unfortunates  commands  my  high- 
est admiration  and  merits  my  heartiest  support. 
With  sentiments  of  great  esteem,  I  am 

Yours  very  sincerely, 
James,  Card.  Gibbons. 

As  the  pioneer  State  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 
(organized  by  me  in  Connecticut  in  May,  1908),  had 
proved  successful,  plans  for  completing  the  organization 
of  the  National  Committee  were  now  decided  upon.  The 
formal  founding  occurred  at  a  meeting  held  in  New  York 
City  on  February  19th,  1909.  At  this  meeting,  plans  for 
work  which  had  been  formulated  with  great  care  during 
the  preceding  year  and  a  half  were  adopted.  To  formu- 
late these  plans  had  not  been  an  easy  task,  as  there  was 
no  society  in  existence  whose  plan  of  work  was  sufficiently 
comprehensive  to  serve  as  a  model  for  the  work  of  the 
National  Committee,  nor,  indeed,  of  the  pioneer  State 
Society  of  Connecticut,  whose  plans,  by  the  way,  were 
also  made  by  the  group  that  organized  the  National 
Committee.  Work  previously  done,  however,  in  behalf 
of  the  insane  in  New  York  by  the  State  Charities  Aid 
Association  had  made  it  easier  to  formulate  part  of  the 
plans  of  the  National  Committee,  namely,  those  features 
relating  to  State  care  and  to  after-care  of  the  insane,  in 
both  of  which  fields  the  New  York  State  Charities  Aid 
Association  had  done  the  pioneer  work  so  far  as  this 
country  is  concerned. 

Instead  of  presenting  in  detail  the  original  "plan  of 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  287 

work"  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  I 
shall  quote  from  an  address  delivered  at  Chautauqua  in 
its  behalf  on  August  nth,  1909,  by  the  late  Dr.  Henry  B. 
Favill,  of  Chicago,  a  leader  in  social  work  as  well  as  in  the 
field  of  medicine,  who  served  as  President  of  the  Com- 
mittee during  its  first  years  of  existence: 

'  Why  am  I  here  to-day  addressing  you?  Briefly 
it  happens  in  this  way.  A  man  in  Connecticut,  Clifford 
W.  Beers  by  name,  was  for  three  years  confined  in 
various  hospitals  for  the  insane,  had  various  experi- 
ences, and  ultimately,  in  1903,  regained  his  mental 
health.  He  came  through  that  experience  with  an 
accurate  memory  and  acute  perception  of  everything 
that  happened  to  him,  a  clear  recollection  of  all  the  per- 
verted mental  processes  that  he  went  through,  a  keen 
sense  of  the  misinterpretation  to  which  his  mental 
processes  were  exposed,  a  very  temperate  resentment  at 
the  unnecessary  hardships  and  brutalities  which  he 
experienced,  the  outgrowth  of  a  system  and  not  of  per- 
sonal default,  and  all  this  he  imparted  in  one  of  the  most 
remarkable  books  of  the  age,  'A  Mind  That  Found 
Itself.' 

'  With  tremendous  conviction  and  singleness  of  pur- 
pose he  has  devoted  himself  to  the  amelioration  of  social 
conditions  as  they  bear  upon  the  question  of  mental 
integrity.  He  has  formed  a  society  in  Connecticut 
which  is  doing  effective  work.  He  conceived  the  idea 
of  a  National  Committee  which  should  do  a  compre- 
hensive work  in  this  direction.  He  selected  a  Board  of 
Directors    from    all    over    the    country.     Incidentally, 


288  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  was  made  the  President  of  the  Committee.  I  am  here 
speaking  the  first  public  word  which  has  been  uttered 
in  its  behalf. 

"  A  proper  question  is,  What  is  our  programme?  At 
the  moment  it  is  rather  indefinite,  and  yet  in  a  general 
way  I  can  say  to  you  what  we  propose  to  do. 

"  In  the  first  place  we  need  money  to  carry  on  an  effec- 
tive work.  We  hope  to  get  that  from  some  source.  As 
the  next  step,  which  seems  logically  to  be  the  last  step, 
which  we  shall  probably  pursue,  we  propose  actively  to 
take  up  what  is  known  as  ' after-care  of  the  insane.' 
That  means  the  establishing  of  relations  between 
patients  who  are  about  to  be  discharged  as  cured,  or 
partially  cured,  and  their  outside  work,  establishing  a 
connection  which  will  continue  a  wise  supervision  out 
into  their  social  relations.     The  value  of  this  is  twofold. 

"  In  the  first  place,  its  tendency  is  to  prevent  relapse  by 
foreseeing  conditions  unfavorable  to  the  individual  and 
preventing  their  harmful  operation.  In  this  way  prob- 
ably a  very  large  percentage  of  the  relapses  can  be 
prevented. 

"  But,  more  than  this,  and  probably  far  more  important 
than  this,  will  be  the  relationship  which  becomes  thereby 
established  with  the  family  and  group  and  entire  social 
circle  of  the  individual. 

"  In  establishing  a  harmonious  relation  in  this  way 
there  is  no  doubt  that  a  great  deal  of  impending  mental 
disaster  can  be  averted.  It  is  one  of  the  ways  in  which 
early  contact  with  mental  disturbances  can  be  secured. 

"  Please  to  realize  the  difficulty  in  this  point.     Sup- 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  289 

posing,  without  any  entering  wedge,  we  undertake  to  go 
to  a  family  which  we  know  to  be  more  or  less  vulnerable 
and  say,  '  You  have  a  bad  family  make-up,  your  family 
history  is  bad,  you  are  all  liable  to  go  to  pieces  men- 
tally, we  want  to  fix  it.'  Imagine,  if  you  can,  anything 
more  impossible  to  accomplish  than  results  upon  such  a 
basis. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  if  you  can  go  into  that  situation 
naturally,  carefully  and  with  a  sympathetic  connection 
already  established  through  an  actual  patient,  there  is 
practically  no  limit  to  the  access  which  can  be  secured. 
Whatever  results  are  possible  from  such  early  access  can 
be  achieved.     Those  are  the  merits  of  'after-care/ 

"  Next,  our  programme  is  education,  spreading  broad- 
cast, as  we  may,  correct  ideas  about  insanity,  mental 
balance,  mental  hygiene,  right  living. 

"  And  next,  we  shall  attempt  to  effect  legislation,  so  to 
alter  the  laws  and  the  procedure  as  to  fit  in  with  this 
fundamental  conception  of  mental  unsoundness. 

"Asa  preliminary  to  that  legislation,  we  must  have 
popular  opinion.  Legislation  cannot  go  much  beyond 
public  opinion,  and  it  is  our  desire,  and  it  will  be  our 
effort,  to  create  public  opinion  as  fast  and  as  widely  as 
we  may. 

"  And  now  the  question  is,  What  do  we  want  from 
you?  The  answer  is  simple, — merely  a  hearing,  merely 
a  fair  judgment,  as  to  the  soundness  of  what  we  set  forth, 
merely  a  sense  of  its  importance,  and  growing  out  of  that 
a  conviction  as  to  your  relation  to  it. 

'  We  want  a  hearing  and  we  feel  confident  that  as  a 


290  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

result  of  a  hearing  we  shall  found  an  individual  convic- 
tion on  the  part  of  practically  everyone  as  to  his  obliga- 
tion to  help  where  he  can. 

"I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  of  all  the  great  public 
movements  that  are  going  on  for  the  correction,  the 
amelioration  of  social  conditions,  there  is  none  more 
important  nor  more  deserving  of  your  earnest  attention." 

At  the  founding  meeting  of  the  National  Committee  in 
1909,  it  was  confidently  believed  that  funds  for  the 
beginning  of  active  work  would  soon  be  secured.  A  year 
later,  however,  no  gifts  having  been  received,  how  to 
finance  the  work  became  the  chief  topic  of  discussion  at 
the  second  annual  meeting,  held  on  April  9th,  1910.  The 
advice  given  at  that  time  by  Dr.  Favill,  who  was  then 
president,  proved  to  be  prophetic.  To  quote  from  his 
remarks : 

"  It  seems  to  me  very  clear  that  the  question  of  policy 
with  us  at  this  moment  is  essentially  a  question  of  finance. 
If  we  had  money  enough,  we  would  all  be  agreed  that  it 
was  best  to  organize  efficiently  with  well-paid  officials 
and  go  into  a  comprehensive  campaign  with  which  we 
could  make  good — educationally,  institutionally,  and 
illustratively.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  not 
money  enough,  the  most  that  we  could  accomplish  would 
be  a  flash  in  the  pan.  Personally,  I  have  a  very  strong 
feeling  that  an  appeal  to  any  considerable  number  of 
the  public  would  be  futile  at  this  moment.  Prof. 
Fisher  has  stated  part  of  it,  namely,  that  the  public 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  291 

does  not  understand  insanity.  I  am  quite  prepared 
from  my  personal  experience  to  state  another  part  of  it 
and  that  is  that  the  public  does  not  yield  money  to 
organizations  except  under  a  very  definite  and  pro- 
tracted pressure  and  then  only  upon  a  presentation  of 
things  so  cogent  as  to  be  convincing  in  some  degree  or 
other — not  only  of  their  importance,  but  from  personal 
relation — to  the  individuals  in  question. 

'  I  am  raising  money  or  helping  to  raise  money  for 
many  organizations  and  I  am  thoroughly  convinced  of  the 
difficulties  encountered  in  popular  subscriptions.  Aside 
from  the  question  of  difficulty,  however,  I  am  as  much 
convinced  that  the  smaller  the  source  of  our  money  at 
first,  the  safer  we  are,  just  as  I  am  convinced  that  in  the 
long  run  the  wider  our  financial  foundations,  the  safer 
we  are.  Any  co-operation  or  support  to  this  movement 
at  this  time  requires  vision.  If  the  individual  furnishing 
the  money  has  not  the  vision,  he  must  have  faith  in 
a  few  individuals  who  have  vision  and  it  has  got  to  be  the 
sort  of  faith  which  will  go  on  not  only  one  or  two,  but 
perhaps  three  or  four  or  five  years  before  results  can  be 
achieved  sufficient  really  to  be  regarded  as  tangible  and 
demonstrable  results.  The  public  will  not  stand  that 
sort  of  procrastination.  The  public  or  any  small  portion 
of  the  public  will  not  be  able  to  have  loyalty  and  adher- 
ence to  any  proposition  of  this  kind,  to  be  counted  upon 
for  support.  I  believe  that  we  have"  got  to  find  a  man 
who  will  come  into  this  situation  with  a  fund  or  a  guar- 
antee, based  upon  a  conviction,  instilled  into  him  by 


292  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

those  who  have  the  power,  as  to  the  importance  of  the 
work  and  the  necessarily  protracted  character  of  the 
preliminary  operations.  I  think  that  our  Finance  Com- 
mittee is  the  crux  of  the  situation  and  I  predict,  without 
any  pessimism,  that  it  will  be  found  that  unless  a  very 
limited  focus  of  financial  support  can  be  made,  we  will 
be  a  year  hence  in  not  a  very  different  position  from 
what  we  are  now.  That  is  my  feeling  in  the  matter  and, 
consequently,  I  regard  our  deliberations  to-day  as  being 
essentially  the  establishment  of  a  financial  policy  which, 
if  it  can  be  successful,  will  by  that  very  fact  establish 
to  a  large  extent  our  future  organic  policy.5 ' 

Dr.  Favill  was  right.  A  year  later,  though  The  New 
York  Foundation  had  given  three  thousand  dollars  to 
the  National  Committee,  no  large  gift,  insuring  the  con- 
tinuance of  work  on  an  active  basis  for  a  period  of  years, 
had  been  secured.  Failure  to  find  the  needed  support 
was  not  occasioned  by  any  defect  in  the  plan  for  work. 
The  trouble  was  that  the  "man  of  vision,"  referred  to  by 
Dr.  Favill,  had  not  been  found.  In  November,  191 1, 
however,  he  revealed  himself.  Mr.  Henry  Phipps 
proved  to  be  the  long-hoped-for  patron.  He  offered  his 
gift  while  talking  with  Dr.  William  H.  Welch.  No  one 
had  asked  him  to  contribute.  That  the  gift  was  spon- 
taneously offered  was  characteristic  of  Mr.  Phipps;  for 
he  had  a  way  of  sensing  needs  and  taking  the  initia- 
tive in  meeting  them.  His  confirmatory  letter  sent  to 
Dr.  Welch  read  as  follows: 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  293 

New  York  City, 
November  4,  191 1. 
Dear  Dr.  Welch, 

For  some  time  past  I  have  been  thinking  of  what  I 
could  do  toward  ameliorating  the  condition  of  the  insane 
in  public  and  private  institutions  and  I  shall  be  very 
glad,  as  mentioned  to  you  this  morning,  if  you  will  accept 
Fifty  Thousand  Dollars  ($50,000)  and  appoint  suitable 
parties  to  carry  out  such  views  as  you  may  have  on  the 
subject. 

I  will  send  you  a  check  whenever  it  is  required. 

Sincerely  yours, 
Henry  Phlpps. 

Though  Mr.  Phipps  at  this  time  was  a  member  of  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  he,  like  most 
other  members,  did  not  know  much  about  its  work — for 
the  simple  reason  that  it  had  done  no  active  work.  But 
he  had  read  my  story  and  I  have  reason  to  believe  that 
its  effect  upon  him,  of  which  he  spoke  to  others  later, 
perhaps  inspired  his  gift.  His  desire,  as  stated  in  his 
letter,  was  "to  ameliorate  conditions  among  the  insane  in 
public  and  private  institutions,"  which  was  one  of  the 
chief  purposes  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene.  As  might  have  been  expected,  Dr.  Welch 
recommended  that  the  $50,000  be  given  to  that  organ- 
ization, which  was  soon  done. 

Shortly  after  the  announcement  of  Mr.  Phipps's  gift  to 
the  National  Committee,  I  received  from  him  a  note  in 


2Q4  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

which  he  said:  "I  should  like  to  take  you  motoring  when 
you  can  find  time  to  call,  giving  me  notice  of  a  day  or 
two.     We  could  have  an  interesting  talk." 

A  week  later  I  spent  an  afternoon  with  Mr.  Phipps. 
While  motoring  he  talked  about  my  book  and  showed 
lively  appreciation  of  the  service  I  had  rendered  in  pub- 
lishing it  and  in  organizing  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene.  Evidently  my  story  had  given  Mr. 
Phipps  the  impression  that  one  who  had  once  suffered  a 
mental  breakdown  should  not,  after  recovery,  work  too 
hard  and,  above  all,  should  not  be  subjected  to  worries. 
I  assured  him  that  I  had  proved  that  I  had  a  high  degree 
of  resistance  both  to  the  strain  of  work  and  to  such 
worries  as  had  been  involved  in  carrying  my  project 
forward.  But  Mr.  Phipps  seemed  not  to  be  convinced, 
for  he  said,  "How  much  would  it  take  to  keep  you 
from  worrying?"  This  was  indeed  a  baffling  question 
put  to  a  man  in  debt  on  account  of  the  work  —  by 
a  man  of  great  wealth,  famous  for  his  generosity, 
who  had  already  shown  interest  in  the  project.  I  told 
Mr.  Phipps  that  as  I  was  his  guest  it  hardly  seemed 
proper  for  me  to  discuss  my  personal  affairs  and  needs. 
"1  had  you  come  to  see  me  for  the  purpose  of  discussing 
them,"  he  said.  "Would  five  thousand  dollars  be  of 
use?  I  want  you  to  have  it  as  a  buttress — for  a  'rainy 
day.'"  As  the  period  from  January  ist,  1907,  when  I 
abandoned  my  business  career  and  an  assured  salary  to 
give  my  whole  time  to  the  publishing  of  my  book  and 
the  organizing  of  the  National  Committee,  had,  in  a 
financial  sense,  been  one  continuous  "rainy  day,"  I  at 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  295 

once  accepted  this  golden  bolt  from  the  blue  that  cleared 
my  financial  skies.  The  next  day  I  received  the  following 
note  from  Mr.  Phipps: 

1063  Fifth  Avenue, 
December  12,  191 1. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

It  gives  me  much  pleasure  to  ask  you  to  accept  the 
enclosed  check  for  five  thousand  dollars  ($5,000),  to  be 
exclusively  for  your  own  use:   nothing  to  do  with  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene. 
Trusting  it  may  add  to  your  pleasure, 

Yours  sincerely, 

Henry  Phipps. 

This  was,  indeed,  a  timely  gift,  for  I  had  expended 
more  than  ten  thousand  dollars  in  publishing  my  book 
and  organizing  the  National  Committee,  eight  thousand 
of  which  represented  money  borrowed  of  banks,  and 
of  a  few  individuals  who  believed  in  my  ultimate  suc- 
cess. Through  a  partial  reimbursement  secured  by 
the  National  Committee  for  the  specific  purpose  and 
previously  voted  me  by  it  on  account  of  expenses  incurred 
in  its  behalf,  both  before  and  while  serving  as  its  tem- 
porary secretary,  I  had  already  paid  three  thousand 
dollars  of  my  debts.  With  Mr.  Phipps's  unexpected 
gift  I  was  now  able  to  pay  all  other  debts.  For  the  first 
time  in  nearly  five  years,  I  owed  no  one  a  dollar  on  ac- 
count of  my  work.  I  also  had  the  satisfaction  of  know- 
ing that  my  judgment  regarding  the  feasibility  of  my 
project  had  at  last  been  vindicated,  for  not  only  was 


296  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

I  out  of  debt,  but  the  National  Committee  had  funds 
sufficient  for  at  least  three  years  of  active  work.  Soon 
afterwards  I  was  appointed  Secretary  with  a  real,  if 
modest,  salary. 

Many  fortunate  occurrences  have  contributed  to  the 
success  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene, 
chief  among  them  being  the  securing  of  Dr.  Thomas  W. 
Salmon  as  its  Medical  Director  when  the  active  work  was 
begun  in  March,  191 2.  Having  been  an  officer  of 
the  United  States  Public  Health  Service  in  charge  of  the 
mental  examination  of  immigrants  at  Ellis  Island  for 
several  years,  and  a  member  of  the  medical  staff  of  a  State 
Hospital  and  later  Chairman  of  the  Board  of  Alienists 
of  the  New  York  State  Hospital  Commission,  Dr.  Salmon 
was  able  to  place  the  work  of  the  National  Committee 
on  an  effective  basis  within  a  short  time.  During  the 
ten  years  that  he  has  served  as  Medical  Director,  vir- 
tually all  of  the  important  plans  for  work  have  been 
visioned,  formulated  and  directed  by  him,  especially 
with  reference  to  special  studies,  surveys  and  war  and 
reconstruction  work,  the  most  difficult  of  the  many 
activities  of  the  organization.  Fortunate,  too,  has 
the  National  Committee  been  in  having  among  its  most 
active  members  leaders  in  psychiatry,  neurology,  psy- 
chology, general  medicine,  education,  finance  and  social 
work  in  this  country  who  have  given  generously  of  their 
time  in  serving  as  members  of  its  inner  committees. 

The  National  Committee  was  now  a  going  concern. 
The  tendency  of  the  work  to  find  itself  occupying  a  wider 
and  wider  field  is  illustrated  by  an  address  delivered  in 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  297 

September,  191 2,  by  Dr.  Llewellys  F.  Barker,  former 
Professor  of  Medicine  at  Johns  Hopkins  University,  who 
for  several  years  served  as  President  of  the  National 
Committee.     To  quote  in  part: 

'It  is  right  that,  in  an  International  Congress  of 
Hygiene  and  Demography,  the  subject  of  Mental  Hygiene 
should  have  especial  representation.  Though  assigned, 
as  a  sub-section,  to  the  section  on  the  Hygiene  of  Infancy 
and  Childhood,  thus  emphasizing  its  relations  to  inheri- 
tance on  the  one  hand  and  to  the  early  environmental 
period  of  the  individual  on  the  other,  it  might  almost 
equally  well,  for  other  reasons,  have  been  made  a  sub- 
division in  anyone  of  the  main  groups  of  the  Congress. 
Indeed,  so  important  is  this  sub-division  for  the  welfare 
of  individuals,  of  families,  of  communities,  of  nations, 
and  of  the  human  race  in  general,  and  so  widespread  its 
ramifications,  that  committees  on  the  organization  of 
future  Congresses  might  well  consider  the  establishment 
of  an  additional  main  section,  devoted  entirely  to  Mental 
Hygiene. 

"  By  a  campaign  for  mental  hygiene  is  meant  a  con- 
tinuous effort  directed  toward  conserving  and  improving 
the  minds  of  the  people,  in  other  words,  a  systematic 
attempt  to  secure  human  brains,  so  naturally  endowed 
and  so  nurtured,  that  people  will  think  better,  feel  better, 
and  act  better,  than  they  do  now.  Such  a  campaign  was 
not  to  be  expected  before  the  rise  of  modern  medicine. 
For  only  with  this  rise  have  we  come  to  look  upon  states 
of  mind  as  directly  related  to  states  of  brain,  to  view 
insanity  as  disordered  brain-function,  and  to  recognize 


298  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

in  imbecility,  and  in  crime,  the  evidences  of  brain-defect. 
The  imbecile,  the  hysterical,  the  epileptic,  the  insane, 
and  the  criminal,  were  formerly  regarded  sometimes  as 
saints  or  prophets,  sometimes  as  wizards  or  witches,  often 
as  the  victims  of  demoniac  possession,  on  the  one  hand 
to  be  revered  or  worshipped,  or,  on  the  other,  to  be 
burned  or  otherwise  tortured.  Now,  such  unfortunates 
are  looked  upon  as  patients  with  disordered  or  defective 
nervous  systems,  proper  subjects  of  medical  care;  some 
of  them  are  curable ;  some  are  incurable,  but  still  educable 
to  social  usefulness ;  a  part  of  them  are  socially  so  worth- 
less, harmful  or  dangerous  as  to  make  their  exclusion 
from  general  society  necessary,  or  desirable.  It  is  but  a 
short  step  from  such  a  reformation  of  ideas  to  the  realiza- 
tion that  less  marked  deviations  from  normal  thought, 
feeling,  or  behavior,  are  also  evidences  either  of  brains 
defective  from  the  start,  or  made  abnormal  in  function 
by  bad  surroundings  or  by  bodily  disease.  As  examples 
of  such  marked  abnormalities  may  be  mentioned  those 
met  with  in  children  who  are  difficult  to  educate,  in 
young  people  arraigned  in  the  Juvenile  Courts,  in  adults, 
who,  inadequate  to  the  strains  of  life,  crowd  our  hos- 
pitals or  sanitoria  on  account  of  'nervous'  or  'mental' 
breakdown,  or  who,  owing  to  anomalies  of  character  and 
conduct,  provide  material  for  the  news  columns  of  the 
sensational  press. 

"  Modern  medicine  has  taught  us  to  recognize  that  the 
conditions  necessary  for  a  good  mind  include,  first,  the 
inheritance  of  such  germ-plasm  from  one's  progenitors 
as  will  yield  a  brain  capable  of  a  high  grade  of  develop- 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  299 

ment  to  individual  and  social  usefulness,  and,  secondly, 
the  protection  of  that  brain  from  injury  and  the  sub- 
mission of  it  to  influences  favorable  to  the  development  of 
its  powers.  Now  if  these  doctrines  of  modern  medicine 
be  true,  the  general  problems  of  mental  hygiene  become 
obvious;  broadly  conceived,  they  consist,  first,  in  pro- 
viding for  the  birth  of  children  endowed  with  good 
brains,  denying,  as  far  as  possible,  the  privilege  of  parent- 
hood to  the  manifestly  unfit  who  are  almost  certain  to 
transmit  bad  nervous  systems  to  their  offspring — that 
is  to  say,  the  problem  of  eugenics ;  and  second,  in  supply- 
ing all  individuals,  from  the  moment  of  fusion  of  the 
parental  germ-cells  onward,  and  whether  ancestrally 
well  begun  or  not,  with  the  environment  best  suited  for 
the  welfare  of  their  mentality. 

'*  The  natural  sciences  are  built  up  by  the  gradual  dis- 
covery of  causal  relationships;  and  physicians  and  psy- 
chologists have,  since  the  time  of  Pinel,  gone  far  in  the 
estabHshment  of  the  laws  underlying  normal  and  abnor- 
mal phenomena  of  mind.  From  the  conviction  that  a 
proper  application  of  the  facts  already  discovered  can 
vastly  improve  the  mental  powers  of  our  people,  decreas- 
ing to  a  large  extent  the  prevalence  of  mental  defect  and 
mental  disease,  has  come  the  impulse  to  arouse  public 
opinion  in  favor  of  a  definite  plan  for  mental  hygiene. 
This  impulse,  thanks  to  the  initiative  of  a  layman, 
Clifford  W.  Beers  (now  Secretary  of  the  National  Com- 
mittee), author  of  'A  Mind  That  Found  Itself,'  whose 
personal  sufferings  led  him  on  recovery  to  devote  himself 
to  the  cause  of  mental  hygiene,  and  who  enlisted  the 


300  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

co-operation  of  a  group  of  representative  men  and  women, 
has  found  expression  in  the  voluntary  formation  of  a 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene." 

As  pointed  out  by  Dr.  Barker,  we  immediately 
found  that  the  usefulness  of  such  an  auxiliary  organ- 
ization was  bound  to  spread  from  fields  mapped  out 
to  new  fields  not  originally  included  in  the  scope  of  the 
work.  Though  written  much  later,  a  letter  from  Dr. 
Walter  E.  Fernald,  Superintendent  of  The  Massa- 
chusetts School  for  Feebleminded  at  Waverley  (who 
has  long  been  recognized  as  the  leader  in  the  field  of 
mental  deficiency  in  this  country),  shows  how  we  had 
all  builded  better  than  we  knew.  Under  date  of 
November  27th,  1916,  Dr.  Fernald  said: 

"  Had  you  begun  your  work  with  the  express  purpose 
of  rendering  help  to  the  mentally  defective,  instead  of 
to  the  insane,  you  could  not  have  planned  an  agency 
better  fitted  to  cope  with  the  difficulties  of  the  problem 
of  mental  deficiency  than  is  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene. 

"  It  has  been  my  privilege  to  witness  and,  in  various 
ways,  to  participate  in  the  growth  of  the  now  wide- 
spread movement  in  behalf  of  the  mentally  defective. 
At  first  this  was  a  slow  growth,  but  during  the  past  ten 
years — and  especially  during  the  past  five — it  has  been 
one  of  the  most  striking  social  developments  of  the  day. 
Many  individuals,  groups  and  forces  have  contributed 
to  this  fortunate  result.  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene  felt  the  force  of  this  movement  within 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  301 

one  year  of  the  time  it  began  its  active  work  in  191 2 
and  wisely  began  then  to  bring  into  its  membership 
physicians  who  had  special  knowledge  of  the  problem 
of  mental  deficiency.  As  in  all  new  fields — when  pioneer 
work  is  done  by  many  unrelated  groups  and  by  zealous 
individuals — there  was  great  danger  that  propaganda 
might  outrun  dependable  data  and  that  unwise  plans, 
policies  and  laws  relating  to  State  care  of  the  mentally 
defective  might  be  hastily  adopted  in  many  States. 
This  danger,  however,  has  been  averted,  and  I  believe 
that  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  and 
its  affiliated  State  Societies  are  destined  to  continue  to 
influence,  along  wise  and  effective  fines,  the  manage- 
ment of  all  phases  of  the  great  problem  of  mental 
deficiency." 

So  many  people  fail  to  appreciate  that  the  mental 
hygiene  movement  is  of  vital  concern  to  everybody  that 
it  seems  advisable  to  present  an  excerpt  from  an  article 
that  appeared  in  Mental  Hygiene  (July,  1921),  by 
Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell,  Professor  of  Psychiatry  at 
Harvard  University,  and  Chairman  of  the  Committee 
on  Education  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene.     To  quote: 

'  Mental  hygiene  is  not  concerned  merely  with  those 
serious  forms  of  mental  disorder  which  require  treatment 
in  State  hospitals;  it  is  concerned  with  those  other  forms 
of  mental  disorders  which  do  not  necessarily  mean  the 
removal  of  the  individual  from  his  ordinary  social  envi- 
ronment.   A  disorder  is  a  mental  disorder  if  its  roots  are 


302  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

mental.  A  headache  indicates  a  mental  disorder  if  it 
comes  because  one  is  dodging  something  disagreeable. 
A  pain  in  the  back  is  a  mental  disorder  if  its  persistence 
is  due  to  discouragement  and  a  feeling  of  uncertainty 
and  a  desire  to  have  sick  benefit,  rather  than  to  put  one's 
back  into  one's  work.  Sleeplessness  is  a  mental  disorder 
if  its  basis  lies  in  personal  worries  and  emotional  tan- 
gles. Many  mental  reactions  are  indications  of  poor 
mental  health,  although  they  are  not  usually  classified 
as  mental  disorders.  Discontent  with  one's  environment 
may  be  a  mental  disorder,  if  its  cause  lie,  not  in  some 
external  situation,"  but  in  personal  failure  to  deal  with 
one's  emotional  problems.  Suspicion,  distrust,  misin- 
terpretation, are  mental  disorders  when  they  are  the 
disguised  expression  of  repressed  longings,  into  which  the 
patient  has  no  clear  insight.  Stealing  sometimes  indi- 
cates a  mental  disorder,  the  odd  expression  of  under- 
lying conflicts  in  the  patient's  nature.  The  feeling  of 
fatigue  sometimes  represents,  not  overwork,  but  dis- 
couragement, inability  to  meet  situations,  lack  of  interest 
in  the  opportunities  available.  Unsociability,  marital 
incompatibility,  alcoholism,  an  aggressive  and  embittered 
social  attitude,  may  all  indicate  a  disorder  of  the  mental 
balance,  which  may  be  open  to  modification.  Acute 
phenomena  characterized  by  unreasoning  emotional 
reactions,  such  as  lynching  and  other  mob  reactions, 
waves  of  popular  suspicion  sweeping  over  a  country, 
may  be  looked  upon  as  transitory  disorders.  The  same 
factors  that  are  involved  in  these  familiar  reactions 
play  an  important  part  in  the  development  of  insanity." 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  303 

The  gift  of  $50,000  from  Mr.  Henry  Phipps  provided 
for  the  first  three  years  of  work.  In  1914  no  funds  for 
use  beyond  that  year  were  in  sight.  This  crisis  was  met 
in  the  following  way.  A  copy  of  "  A  Mind  That  Found 
Itself"  was  sent  to  each  of  one  hundred  people  of  wealth, 
known  to  be  liberal  contributors  to  worthy  work.  With 
each  inscribed  copy  of  the  book  a  letter  of  appeal  was 
sent,  asking  for  pledges  to  cover  a  period  of  years.  Few 
had  faith  in  the  scheme  and  one  adviser  even  predicted 
that  the  appeals  would  go  the  common  route  of  circular 
letters — into  the  wastebasket.  I  ventured  to  predict, 
that  the  book  would  keep  or  lift  some  of  them  out  of 
it,  and  events  justified  my  judgment. 

Two  of  the  letters  brought  surprising  results.  Mrs. 
William  K.  Vanderbilt  and  the  late  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Mil- 
bank  Anderson  responded  with  pledges  to  the  value  of 
$2,500  each,  and  asked  me  to  call  and  tell  them  in  person 
about  the  work.  As  the  most  difficult  task  of  one  who 
has  an  unproved  plan  to  present  is  to  secure  interviews 
with  potential  donors,  this  was  a  very  fortunate  result. 
Mrs.  Anderson  soon  gave  $10,000  and  Mrs.  Vanderbilt 
$4,500  for  use  during  191 5;  and  a  little  later  these  two 
benefactors  each  pledged  $10,000  a  year  for  the  four  years 
ending  in  19 19.  This  backlog  of  support  gave  us  time 
in  which  to  secure  from  others  gifts  for  general  and  spe- 
cific purposes  during  those  years.  Thus  was  the  second 
financial  crisis  met.  The  copies  of  my  book  which  had 
kept  at  least  two  of  my  early  letters  of  appeal  out  of  the 
wastebasket  had  brought  to  the  National  Committee 
gifts  amounting  to  nearly  $100,000.     Indeed,  the  copy 


304  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

sent  to  Mrs.  Anderson  may  be  said  to  have  brought  to  its 
treasury  a  quarter  of  a  million  dollars,  for  her  gifts,  and 
her  bequest  of  $100,000  (this  generous  friend  died  on 
February  23rd,  192 1),  total  that  amount.  In  addition, 
Mrs.  Anderson  gave  a  conditional  pledge  of  $100,000 
toward  endowment,  as  described  later. 

Other  liberal  individual  contributors  have  been  Mrs. 
E.  H.  Harriman,  who  has  given  or  pledged  $45,000  in 
the  form  of  annual  gifts  of  $5,000  each,  largely  for  work 
in  mental  deficiency,  in  which  field  Mrs.  Harriman  and 
her  daughter,  Mrs.  Rumsey,  were  among  the  pioneers 
in  this  country;  and  Miss  Anne  Thomson,  who  gave 
$15,000  for  initiating  war  work.  Toward  general  ex- 
penses, Mr.  V.  Everit  Macy  has  given  or  pledged 
$10,000;  and  Mrs.  Willard  Straight,  Mr.  George  F. 
Baker,  Jr.,  Mr.  Cyrus  H.  McCormick,  Dr.  and  Mrs. 
Walter  B.  James,  Mr.  Robert  S.  Brewster,  Mrs.  Helen 
Hartley  Jenkins,  Mr.  Nicholas  F.  Brady,  Mr.  Adolph 
and  Mr.  Sam  A.  Lewisohn  and  Miss  Mabel  Choate, 
have  given  or  pledged  approximately  $5,000  each. 
Several  others  have  given  $1,000  at  intervals,  and  still 
others  have  contributed  smaller  amounts.  The  Rocke- 
feller Foundation,  the  New  York  Foundation,  the  Com- 
monwealth Fund  and  the  Milbank  Memorial  Fund 
have  contributed,  from  time  to  time,  largely  for  special 
purposes. 

All  told,  not  more  than  fifty  individuals  have  con- 
tributed to  the  National  Committee  since  it  was  founded 
in  1909.  The  support  of  a  few,  rather  than  of  the  many, 
during  the  early  years  of  a  philanthropy  is  often  desirable, 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  305 

as  Dr.  Favill  says  in  his  remarks  that  appear  on  a  pre- 
ceding page.  But,  as  he  also  points  out,  there  comes  a 
time  when  a  wider  basis  of  support  is  not  only  desirable, 
but  indispensable  to  the  healthy  growth  of  any  work. 
That  time  has  now  come.  A  work  which  benefits  the 
whole  public  deserves  to  be  supported  by  public-spirited 
people  of  wealth  in  all  cities  and  in  all  States.  Thus  far, 
nearly  all  of  the  support  of  the  National  Committee  has 
come  from  one  city  and  one  State,  New  York. 

Concerted  efforts  are  now  being  made  to  secure  ade- 
quate funds  for  maintenance,  development,  and  endow- 
ment. The  work  and  the  needs  of  the  National  Com- 
mittee are  being  presented  to  individuals  and  to  groups 
throughout  the  country.  People  who  have  never  before 
learned  in  detail  of  the  work  are  to  be  given  the  chance  to 
contribute,  or  pledge  future  gifts,  in  proportion  to  their 
resources,  their  belief  in  the  need  for  organized  mental 
hygiene  work,  and  their  faith  in  the  National  Committee. 
In  this  way,  it  is  hoped  that  this  organization,  which 
champions  great  classes  who  need  help  (but  have  never 
yet  received  what  they  deserve),  may  be  placed  in  a 
position  to  give  that  help  promptly  and  on  a  scale  in 
keeping  with  the  demands.  Funds  are  needed,  not  alone 
for  endowment,  but  for  general  expenses.  For,  unless  an 
adequate  staff  of  skilled  workers  can  be  maintained, 
gifts  for  special  purposes,  such  as  surveys,  studies  and 
demonstrations,  cannot  be  administered  with  full 
effectiveness. 

The  letter  from  Mrs.  Anderson,  which  opened  the  quest 
for  endowment,  speaks  for  itself.     To  quote: 


306  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

New  York  City, 
November  29,  1919. 
Otto  T.  Bannard,  Esc.,  Treasurer, 

The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  Inc., 
New  York  City. 
Dear  Mr.  Bannard: 

I  am  very  much  interested  in  the  effort  about  to  be 
made  to  raise  an  adequate  endowment,  the  income  of 
which  will  be  available  to  perpetuate  the  work  of  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  Inc.  I  dis- 
cussed this  matter  at  some  length  with  Mr.  Beers  and  I 
am  now  prepared  to  pledge  the  sum  of  $100,000  upon  the 
condition  that  your  Committee  will  use  its  best  efforts  to 
raise  an  additional  sum  of  $900,000  to  the  end  that  the 
Committee  will  have  at  its  disposal  an  endowment  of  at 
least  $1,000,000,  a  sum  which,  to  my  mind,  is  clearly 
needed  if  the  full  benefits  of  the  undertaking  are  to  be 
realized.  .  .  . 

I  am  well  satisfied  with  all  that  has  been  accomplished 
since  Mr.  Beers  first  stirred  my  interest  in  the  work  and  I 
feel  that  we  all  owe  him  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  the 
important  part  he  has  taken  in  focussing  public  attention 
on  a  subject  of  such  vital  concern  to  the  community.  I 
earnestly  hope  that  your  efforts  to  place  the  work  on  a 
permanent  foundation  will  meet  with  complete  success. 

Yours  very  truly, 
Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson. 

Under  the  pledge  of  Mrs.  Anderson,  a  liberal  time  for 
completing  the  endowment  is  given;  and  of  the  amount 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  307 

pledged,  $50,000  becomes  payable  as  soon  as  $450,000 
from  other  sources  has  been  secured. 

Mrs.  Anderson  was  keenly  interested  in  the  plan  for 
securing  an  endowment,  and  she  and  I  once  discussed 
the  possibility  of  securing  gifts  for  the  National  Com- 
mittee through  bequests.  She  said  that  if  others  found 
pleasure,  as  she  did,  in  making  a  will,  it  would  be  per- 
fectly proper  to  ask  people  of  wealth  to  consider  provid- 
ing for  bequests  to  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene.  As  the  subject  of  making  a  will  is  a  delicate 
one  and  as  probably  few  people  (except  the  lawyers) 
find  pleasure  in  drawing  up  wills,  I  have  never  yet 
had  the  temerity  to  discuss  possible  bequests  for  the 
National  Committee  with  people  who  can  afford  to 
make  them.  Nevertheless,  I  have  courage  enough  to 
write  as  I  now  do  and  thus  bring  the  subject,  in  a  general 
way,  to  the  attention  of  readers  who  may  be  in  a  posi- 
tion to  remember  the  National  Committee  in  their  wills, 
along  with  other  incorporated  organizations  engaged  in 
work  of  a  philanthropic  nature. 

Mrs.  Anderson  bequeathed  $100,000,  unconditionally, 
to  the  National  Committee.  It  is  planned  to  call  this 
the  Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson  Fund  of  the  National 
Committee  and  include  it  in  the  Committee's  endow- 
ment. Recently  a  bequest  of  a  few  thousand  dollars 
was  received  under  the  will  of  the  late  Margaret  W. 
Gage  of  Cambridge,  Massachusetts.  In  191 7,  Miss 
Gage  wrote  as  follows:  "Will  you  kindly  send  me 
some  printed  matter  describing  the  work  of  your 
society?    I  want  to  give  a  small  bequest  in  my  will 


308  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

to  help  in  the  prevention  and  cure  of  insanity  and 
I  want  to  know  where  is  wisest  to  apply  the  be- 
quest." A  copy  of  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself,"  and 
other  publications  descriptive  of  the  National  Com- 
mittee were  sent  to  Miss  Gage,  who  later  wrote  that  she 
was  "convinced  of  its  reliability  and  its  good  work." 
If  a  bequest  could  follow  in  this  instance  without  any 
further  correspondence  or  an  interview,  is  it  not  reason- 
able to  expect  that  the  information  set  forth  in  this  book 
may  inspire  similar  action  on  the  part  of  others? 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show  that  the  success  of  the 
work  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 
is  assured.  So  great  are  the  needs,  however,  and  so 
wide  in  scope  is  the  work  that  gifts  for  its  maintenance, 
development  and  for  endowment,  will  continue  to  be 
needed.  Though  it  is  not  necessary,  I  am  sure,  to  pre- 
sent opinions  showing  that  liberal  support  for  the  work 
is  deserved,  I  rhall,  nevertheless,  present  a  letter  from 
Dr.  Charles  W.  Eliot,  President  Emeritus  of  Harvard 
University,  who  became  a  Vice-President  of  The  Nation- 
al Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  even  before  its  active 
work  was  begun.  He  sent  it  to  me  after  reading  the 
page  proofs  of  part  of  the  revised  4th  Edition  of  my 
autobiography. 

Cambridge,  Mass. 
17  January,  1917. 
Dear  Mr.  Beers: 

I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  about  to  publish  a 
revised  edition  of  "A  Mind  That  Found  Itself,"  which 
will  contain  an  account  of  the  organizing  of  The  National 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  309 

Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene.  Your  part  in  creating 
that  Committee  was  so  important  that  an  account  of  it 
will  be  an  entirely  appropriate  addition  to  your  book, 
which  had  a  highly  interesting  autobiographical  char- 
acter, and  owed  much  of  its  immediate  influence  to  that 
quality. 

I  have  just  had  the  pleasure  of  reading  the  proofs  of 
your  account  of  the  creation  of  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene;  and  want  to  congratulate  you  at 
once  on  the  friends  and  supporters  you  have  found  in  the 
prosecution  of  your  difficult  enterprise,  and  to  suggest 
that  the  work  of  the  Committee  is  sure  to  be  permanent, 
and  therefore  should  be  supported  on  a  permanent  endow- 
ment. The  work  of  the  Committee  now  divides  itself 
into  original  inquiries  or  surveys,  popular  education 
concerning  the  care  and  treatment  of  the  insane  and  the 
preventable  causes  of  mental  disease  and  deficiency, 
and  the  organizing  and  advising  of  agencies  (federal, 
state  and  local)  for  promoting  the  objects  for  which  the 
Committee  labors.  All  three  of  these  objects  have  a 
permanent  character ;  although  the  function  of  inquiring 
and  surveying  may  later  take  the  form  of  inspecting. 
A  permanent  work  of  this  sort  should  be  supported  by 
an  adequate  endowment. 

Thus  far  in  the  life  of  the  National  Committee  its 
resources  have  been  of  a  temporary  nature,  supplied 
chiefly  by  such  very  unusual  givers  as  Mr.  Henry  Phipps, 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson,  and  Mrs.  William 
K.  Vanderbilt,  and  the  Rockefeller  Foundation.  I  con- 
gratulate you  that  your  Board  of  Directors  has  already 


310  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

voted  that  an  endowment  fund  be  raised;  and  I  wish 
you  prompt  success  in  obtaining  that  endowment.  You 
have  already  been  so  successful  in  enlisting  both  sym- 
pathy and  pecuniary  support  for  your  cause  that  I  antici- 
pate for  you  success  in  this  new  undertaking. 

Among  your  friends  and  supporters,  the  most  interest- 
ing and  remarkable  personage,  to  my  thinking,  was  Wil- 
liam James.  His  letters  to  you  about  your  work,  and  his 
gift  of  a  thousand  dollars  to  your  cause — for  him  a  very 
large  gift — must  have  been  very  delightful  to  you,  and 
helpful  also.  They  moved  me  very  much  as  I  read  them 
last  evening;  and  I  hope  that  they  will  move  to  aid 
you  some  among  his  numerous  friends  and  admirers 
who  can  afford  the  luxury  and  enjoy  the  privilege  of 
liberally  endowing  worthy  and  competent  agencies  for 
promoting  human  welfare. 

Sincerely  yours, 
Charles  W.  Eliot. 

Except  during  the  first  three  years  (1912-1915),  be- 
fore its  work  had  outgrown  its  financial  resources,  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  has  never  had 
funds  adequate  to  the  needs  during  any  given  year. 
Despite  this  handicap,  remarkable  results  have  been 
attained.  The  next  chapter  tells  of  the  accomplish- 
ments and  indicates  what  can  be  done  when  adequate 
funds  are  available. 


II 

Ten  Years  of  Work 

As  the  work  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene  is  for  the  most  part  of  a  medical  nature,  the 
following  account  of  its  activities  has  been  taken  largely 
from  statements  prepared  from  time  to  time  by  Dr. 
Thomas  W.  Salmon,  its  Medical  Director  during  the 
"ten  years  of  work." 

When  the  funds  were  secured  that  enabled  the  Com- 
mittee to  commence  active  work  in  191 2,  the  outlook  for 
a  successful  movement  in  this  new  field  of  health  and 
social  work  presented  many  disheartening  features. 
Wliile  the  treatment  of  other  disorders  had  been  practi- 
cally revolutionized  during  the  last  one  hundred  years 
and,  during  the  last  twenty  years,  the  popular  distrust  of 
general  hospitals  had  practically  disappeared,  the  treat- 
ment of  mental  diseases  was  just  emerging  from  a  very 
long  period  of  neglect  and  inhumanity.  Even  among 
educated  persons  in  the  most  civilized  countries  mental 
diseases  were  often  regarded  as  visitations  coming  from 
unknown  causes  and  the  insane  as  persons  to  be  treated 
with  a  certain  consideration  because  they  were  still 
human  beings — but  quite  beyond  the  possibility  of 
restoration  to  health.  In  medical  schools  (except  in  one 
or  two  foreign  countries),  psychiatry  occupied  a  place 

311 


312  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

too  inconspicuous  to  give  even  the  most  thoughtful 
student  more  than  an  inkling  of  the  vast  field  of  mental 
medicine  that  existed.  Great  health  movements  which 
were  avowedly  general  in  their  character  gave  no  recog- 
nition at  all  to  the  fact  that  mental  disease  as  well  as 
physical  disease  might  possibly  be  prevented.  There 
existed  no  course  of  instruction  in  mental  hygiene  in 
any  school,  college  or  university  and  the  literature  on 
the  preventive  aspects  of  psychiatry  was  limited  to  a 
few  dozen  titles,  many  of  which  had  little  or  no  practical 
bearing  upon  the  subject.  Excellent  reasons  could  have 
been  advanced  for  deciding  not  to  enter  such  an  un- 
promising field.  It  was  largely  because  of  a  realization 
of  the  great  suffering  which  accompanies  mental  disease 
that  those  who  organized  the  Committee  decided  not  to 
put  off  making  an  attempt  to  reduce  its  aggregate 
amount.  The  notoriously  slow  growth  of  a  more 
rational  public  attitude  toward  mental  illness  and  the 
hygiene  of  mind  seemed  to  them  to  call  for  prompt 
action  rather  than  to  justify  delay. 

With  the  gift  of  $50,000  from  Mr.  Henry  Phipps,  which 
maintained  the  work  for  the  first  three  years,  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  in  March,  191 2, 
entered  the  field  of  organized  preventive  medicine.  It 
seemed,  however,  to  those  who  were  responsible  for  its 
pioneer  work,  that  it  would  be  idle  to  attempt  to  popu- 
larize information  regarding  the  preventable  causes  of 
mental  disease  while  the  subject  itself  was  one  which 
could  hardly  be  discussed  because  of  the  prejudice  and 
misinformation  that  were  so  prevalent.    At  a  time  when 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  313 

a  large  proportion  of  persons  suffering  from  some  of  the 
most  serious  of  all  diseases  were  abandoned  almost  from 
the  earliest  appearance  of  symptoms  to  the  care  of 
ignorant  custodians,  when  the  law  itself  placed  a  stigma 
of  hopelessness  and  pauperism  upon  the  very  names  of 
the  disorders  from  which  they  suffered  and  made  people 
shrink  from  acknowledging  their  existence,  and  when  the 
background  of  prison,  poorhouse  and  asylum  was  in 
many  States  scarcely  disappearing  into  the  past,  it 
would  have  been  useless  to  advocate  the  recognition  in 
childhood  of  traits  tending  toward  mental  disease,  the 
establishment  of  mental  hygiene  clinics  or  the  wide  appli- 
cation of  recently  discovered  facts  in  mental  medicine  to 
such  social  problems  as  the  management  of  delinquency, 
the  classification  and  training  of  prisoners  and  the  study 
of  industrial  problems.  For  this  reason,  the  work  of  the 
first  three  years  was  almost  wholly  devoted  to  the 
attempt  to  promote,  by  means  of  carefully  planned 
popular  education,  the  growth  of  that  better  attitude 
toward  mental  illness  and  its  problems  which  was  already 
coming  into  existence  with  the  general  spread  of  humani- 
tarian ideals. 

In  the  autumn  of  191 2  an  International  Congress  on 
Hygiene  and  Demography  was  held  in  Washington.  A 
mental  hygiene  exhibit  was  carefully  prepared  during 
the  preceding  summer  with  the  aid  of  many  experts  in 
special  fields  of  work.  The  incidence,  cost  and  social 
significance  of  mental  disease  and  mental  deficiency 
and  the  fields  of  preventive  effort  were  presented  in  a 
graphic  and  striking  form  to  a  large  number  of  persons 


314  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

engaged  in  health  and  social  work.  This  exhibit  won 
a  Diploma  of  Superior  Merit.  At  the  International 
Congress,  mental  hygiene  appeared  for  the  first  time  in 
a  program  of  meetings  devoted  to  hygiene  and  sani- 
tation and  the  "  Mental  Hygiene  Movement,"  as  a 
newly  organized  endeavor  to  combat  disease,  received 
formal  recognition  in  the  United  States.  Later  the 
exhibit  was  shown  at  a  series  of  mental  hygiene  meetings 
in  various  cities  throughout  the  country.  At  the 
Panama  Pacific  Exposition  at  San  Francisco,  it  was 
awarded  a  Grand  Prize. 

Even  with  the  limited  funds  available  during  the  first 
three  years,  an  attempt  was  made  by  means  of  surveys  to 
ascertain  the  actual  conditions  under  which  mental 
diseases  were  treated  in  several  States  and  to  acquaint 
the  people  of  those  States  with  the  facts  disclosed. 
These  demonstrations  opened  the  way  for  the  important 
survey  work  done  later. 

The  most  critical  period  of  the  newly  launched  work 
occurred  in  19 14  when  the  single  appropriation  (the  gift 
of  Mr.  Phipps),  upon  which  work  had  been  commenced 
three  years  earlier,  was  all  but  expended.  The  question 
in  the  minds  of  all  those  who  had  shared  in  the  hopes  and 
fears  of  the  initial  work  was,  "  Has  it  been  demonstrated 
that  mental  hygiene  constitutes  a  practical  field  of 
effort?"  The  National  Committee  made  no  attempt  to 
advertise  itself,  but  tried  simply  to  state  the  most  urgent 
problems  of  mental  hygiene  as  they  appeared.  As  a 
result  of  the  presentation  of  the  field  and  of  the  needs  of 
the  organization,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson  and 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  315 

Mrs.  William  K.  Vanderbilt,  as  stated  elsewhere,  tided 
the  National  Committee  over  this  crisis  in  its  affairs  by 
contributing  generously  toward  general  expenses.  Soon 
afterwards  the  Rockefeller  Foundation  began  to  con- 
tribute liberally  for  special  studies  and  surveys. 

The  year  191 6  was  one  of  rapid  development.  Among 
the  important  studies  undertaken  during  that  year 
were  that  of  the  Psychiatric  Clinic  at  Sing  Sing  Prison; 
a  survey  of  the  incidence  of  mental  deficiency  in  Nassau 
County,  New  York;  and  surveys  of  the  care  of  mental 
diseases  in  the  States  of  Georgia,  Connecticut,  Louisiana, 
Pennsylvania,  Indiana,  Colorada  and  California,  and  in 
the  cities  of  Scranton  and  New  York.  Owing  to  the 
rapid  growth  of  its  work  in  behalf  of  the  feebleminded, 
the  National  Committee  appointed  at  this  time  a 
Committee  on  Mental  Deficiency,  of  which  Dr.  Walter 
E.  Fernald  became  chairman.  Soon  afterwards  sur- 
veys of  mental  deficiency  were  begun  in  several  States. 

The  study  at  Sing  Sing  Prison  demonstrated  the  vital 
importance  of  the  mental  factors  involved  in  crime  and 
delinquency.  As  a  result  of  the  demonstration  made  at 
Sing  Sing,  the  need  for  psychiatric  clinics  in  connection 
with  prisons,  reformatories  and  courts  is  now  generally 
recognized.  With  funds  made  available  by  the  Rocke- 
feller Foundation,  assistance  was  given  to  the  Psy- 
chiatric Clinic  at  the  Childrens  Court  in  New  York 
City;  the  Police  Department  of  a  great  city  was  assisted 
in  organizing  a  Psychopathic  Clinic;  and  a  study  of  all 
the  children  in  a  truant  school  in  one  city  was  made. 
These  activities  recently  led  to  the  adoption  of  a  plan  for 


316  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

a  Division  on  the  Prevention  of  Juvenile  Delinquency 
as  a  part  of  the  work  of  the  National  Committee. 

During  these  first  four  years  of  work,  the  organizing  of 
affiliated  societies  and  committees  for  mental  hygiene 
had  been  brought  about  in  fifteen  States.  These  agen- 
cies began  to  arouse  interest  in  mental  hygiene  problems 
and  several  instituted  social  service  in  behalf  of  mental 
patients  and  their  relatives. 

In  191 7,  the  publication  of  a  quarterly  magazine, 
Mental  Hygiene,  was  begun  by  the  National  Committee. 
This  official  journal  of  the  organization  and  of  the  move- 
ment in  this  country  has  done  much  to  popularize 
the  subject  of  mental  hygiene.  Its  active  editor  is 
Dr.  Frankwood  E.  Williams,  an  Associate  Medical 
Director,  who  is  assisted  by  an  editorial  board.  A 
description  of  the  magazine  and  a  list  of  publications  of 
the  National  Committee  appear  in  a  later  chapter. 
The  reduced  facsimile  of  a  cover  of  the  magazine  on 
the  opposite  page  gives  an  idea  of  its  general  contents. 

War  Work 

Then  came  the  war.  The  experience  ot  our  Allies 
showed  those  who  had  carefully  studied  medico-military 
problems  since  1914  that  mental  and  nervous  dis- 
eases, especially  the  functional  nervous  disorders,  termed 
"psycho-neuroses,"  play  an  enormous  part  in  modern 
warfare.  Even  before  the  United  States  had  formally 
entered  the  war  it  was  realized  that  it  was  the  duty  of 
The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  to  lead 
the  way  in  preparing  to  meet  this  new  health  problem  of 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


317 


MENTAL 
HYGIENE 


VOL.  V 


JULY,  1921 


NO.  8 


CONTENTS 

The  Sole  of  Situation  in  Psychopathological  Conditions...  Esther  Loring  Richards 

Mental  Hygiene  in  Industry C.  Macfie  Campbell 

Has  Mental  Hygiene  a  Practical  Use  in  Industry  ? Boyd  Fiaber 

Industrial  Hygiene » Wade  Wright 

The  Mental  Hygiene  Aspects  of  Illegitimacy Marion  E.  Keavorthy 

The  Educational  Value  of  Psychiatric  Social  Work. Mary  C..  Jarrett 

Mental  Health  Clinics H.  Douglas  Singer 

The  Significance  of  Spiritualism Clarence  0.  Cheney 

laws  Controlling  Commitments  to  State  Hospitals  for  Mental 

Diseases , James  V.  May 

The  State  Psychopathic  Hospital „ Albert  M  Barrett 

A  Study  of  the  Economic  Status  of  Forty-one  Paretic  Patients 

and  Their  Families \  5^F  £  f°Jomon 

******  *■ ■""—*»  ;  }  Maida  H.  Solomon 

Records  and  Statistics  in  Occupational  Therapy. .....Horatio  M.  Pollock 

Outline  for  a  State  Society  of  Mental  Hygiene E.  Stanley  Abbot 

Social  Facts  Relative  to  Patients  with  Mental  Diseases. Edith  M.  Furbuah 

Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson 

Abstracts  Book  Reviews  Botes  and  Comments 

Current  Bibliography Dorothy  E.  Morrison 


PUBLISHED  QUARTERLY  BY 
THE  NATIONAL  COMMITTEE  FOR  MENTAL  HYGIENE,  INC. 

PUBLICATION  OFFICE:    27  COLUMBIA  ST,  ALBANY,  N.  T. 

Emtobial  OmcE :  370  Seventh  Avenue,  New  .Tore  City 

TWO  DOLLABS  A  YEAS  FrJTY  CENTS  A  COJT 


318  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

military  service.  A  committee,  consisting  of  Dr.  Pearce 
Bailey,  Dr.  Stewart  Paton  and  Dr.  Salmon,  presented 
to  the  Surgeons  General  of  the  Army  and  of  the  Navy 
plans  for  the  organization  of  military  neuro-psychiatric 
units,  the  early  treatment  and  examination  of  mental 
patients  and  the  elimination  of  recruits  suffering  from 
mental  diseases,  mental  deficiency  and  nervous  dis- 
orders. 

At  the  request  of  General  Gorgas,  this  committee  of 
the  National  Committee  visited  the  Texas  border  in 
March,  191 7,  to  study  the  neuro-psychiatric  problems 
presented  in  that  relatively  small  mobilization  of  troops. 
It  was  apparent  that  more  detailed  information  as  to  the 
nature  and  management  of  functional  nervous  disorders 
among  soldiers  was  necessary  and  so,  under  an  appropri- 
ation made  by  the  Rockefeller  Foundation,  Dr.  Salmon 
left  in  May,  191 7,  to  secure  first-hand  information 
in  Europe.  Before  his  return,  Dr.  Bailey,  then  Chair- 
man of  the  War  Work  Committee  of  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  was  commissioned  in 
the  Medical  Reserve  Corps  and  assigned  to  duty  as 
Chief  of  the  Section  of  Neurology  and  Psychiatry  in 
the  Office  of  the  Surgeon  General  of  the  Army,  which 
Section  later  included  Psychology,  under  Major  Robert 
M.  Yerkes.  With  the  data  which  Dr.  Salmon  brought 
back,  plans  were  rapidly  prepared  for  raising  and  equip- 
ping neuro-psychiatric  units.  The  contacts  which  the 
National  Committee  had  secured  with  institutions  and 
with  physicians  practicing  neurology  and  psychiatry  in 
the  United  States  greatly  facilitated  the  rapid  mobiliza- 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  319 

tion  of  several  hundred  trained  neuro-psychiatrists  and 
several  hundred  nurses  and  attendants.  The  neuro- 
psychiatric  examination  of  troops  commenced  before 
that  of  any  other  specialties  and  the  first  division  sent  to 
France  has  had  many  insane,  mentally  defective  and 
psycho-neurotic  soldiers  eliminated  before  their  embarka- 
tion. These  examinations  were  developed  to  such  an 
extent  that  over  72,000  men  were  rejected  from  the  draft 
army  because  of  neuro-psychiatric  disorders.  Largely  as 
a  result  of. this  remarkable  work  organized  by  Colonel 
Bailey,  the  rate  of  mental  and  nervous  cases  evacuated 
to  the  United  States  from  France  was  less  than  that 
from  any  expeditionary  force  in  history.  The  inci- 
dence of  mental  disease  in  the  A.  E.  F.  was  one-third 
lower  than  the  rate  among  the  troops  on  the  Mexican 
border  in  191 6.  The  total  number  of  patients  sent 
home  for  the  neuroses  ("shell-shock")  was  a  little  over 
2,000.  The  rate  for  suicides  in  the  A.  E.  F.  was  phe- 
nomenally low,  being  only  one-tenth  that  in  the  Regular 
Army  in  191 5.  The  elimination  of  mentally  defective 
and  psychopathic  soldiers  in  the  camps  at  home  was 
also  a  factor  of  prime  importance  in  the  remarkably  low 
prevalence  of  serious  crime  in  the  A.  E.  F.  Of  the 
2,000,000  men  who  left  this  country  for  France  only 
1,700  were  returned  as  general  prisoners.  Not  only 
was  there  much  less  crime  in  the  A.  E.  F.  than  in  the 
relatively  unselected  Regular  Army,  but  there  was  less 
than  in  the  civil  population  of  the  same  group  in  size 
and  age-period. 

In  every  medical  activity  of  the  Army  at  home  the 


320  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

problems  of  mental  diseases  received  recognition. 
Base  and  general  hospitals  had  neuro-psychiatric  wards; 
psychiatric  clinics  were  organized  in  all  military  prisons, 
in  one  of  which  a  school  of  instruction  was  maintained; 
five  civil  centers  were  utilized  for  the  instruction  of 
medical  officers  in  neuro-psychiatry;  a  school  of  instruc- 
tion for  psychiatric  social  workers  was  established; 
co-operation  was  secured  from  State  officials  for  the 
reception  of  men  discharged  from  the  Army  for  mental 
disabilities,  and  laws  were  passed  in  several  States 
authorizing  their  voluntary  admission  to  hospitals. 

In  France,  Colonel  Salmon  became  Senior  Consultant 
in  Neuro-psychiatry  to  the  A.  E.  F.  and  was  instru- 
mental in  organizing  base  and  advanced  hospitals  for 
the  treatment  of  mental  and  nervous  disorders.  The 
special  hospital  for  war  neuroses  at  Lafauche,  France, 
was  the  first  special  base  hospital  to  operate  in  the  A.  E. 
F.  Colonel  Bailey,  who  was  later  assisted  in  the  office 
of  the  Surgeon  General  by  Lt.  Colonel  Frankwood  E. 
Williams  of  the  staff  of  the  National  Committee,  had 
secured  President  Wilson's  approval  of  the  assignment 
of  Division  neuro-psychiatrists,  the  first  specialists 
attached  to  Divisions,  and  in  France  the  same  decision 
was  made.  The  result  of  having  these  highly  trained 
officers  serving  with  troops  in  combat,  the  provision  of 
advanced  hospitals  a  few  miles  from  the  firing  lines  for 
treatment  of  neuro-psychiatric  patients,  and  the  effects 
of  the  exclusion  of  thousands  of  potential  mental  patients 
from  the  draft  army  in  the  United  States,  resulted  in  the 
control  of  the  prevalence  of  these  disorders  at  the  front 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  321 

to  a  degree  which  could  not  have  been  obtained  in  any 
other  way.  This  conservation  of  man-power  was  recog- 
nized by  General  Pershing  in  a  personal  message  of 
thanks,  to  Colonel  Salmon,  for  what  had  been  accom- 
plished by  the  Army  neuro-psychiatrists  at  the  front. 

The  part  played  by  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene  in  the  war  has  been  stated  by  Surgeon 
General  Ireland  as  follows:  "It  (the  occasion  of  the  nth 
annual  meeting  of  the  National  Committee  in  1920) 
gives  me  a  long-looked-for  opportunity  publicly  to 
express  my  sincere  thanks  and  appreciation  for  the 
untiring,  loyal  and  constructive  assistance  given  to  the 
Medical  Department  of  the  Army  by  your  Committee 
at  a  time  when  assistance  was  sorely  needed.  At  no 
time  has  any  request  been  made  of  your  Committee 
that  has  not  been  freely  granted  so  far  as  it  was  within 
your  power.  Beyond  that  everything  possible  was 
anticipated  in  a  most  thoroughly  patriotic  and  far- 
seeing  manner.  A  most  striking  assistance  was  the 
efforts  of  the  Committee  to  keep  up  the  morale  of  the 
personnel  of  the  Neuro-psychiatric  Service.  With  your 
help  we  have  been  able  to  meet  almost  every  demand 
placed  upon  this  service.  The  riles  of  the  War  Depart- 
ment contain  many  records  of  noble  work  done  by  your 
members." 

Reconstruction 

During  the  war  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene  had  been  able  to  make  contributions  which  have 
been  generally  recognized  as  of  very  great^importance. 


322  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Had  there  been  no  duties  to  be  performed  in  connection 
with  the  returning  disabled  soldiers,  the  work  of  the 
National  Committee  could  have  been  expanded  at  once 
along  the  new  lines  that  were  beginning  to  be  developed 
toward  the  close  of  191 6.  In  its  field,  however,  more 
than  that  of  any  other  health  agency,  there  remained 
serious  problems  of  reconstruction.  As  has  often  been 
said,  the  country  was  as  unprepared  for  peace  as  it  had 
been  for  war.  This  was  especially  true  in  the  provisions 
made  for  dealing  with  discharged  soldiers,  sailors  and 
marines  who  suffered  from  mental  and  nervous  diseases. 
A  system  of  Governmental  management,  which  has  been 
universally  condemned  as  inadequate,  unscientific  and 
administratively  impossible,  divided  between  three 
independent  bureaus  responsibility  for  the  hospitaliza- 
tion, compensation  and  vocational  training  of  disabled 
men. 

In  this  period  of  confusion,  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene  was  able  to  render  important  ser- 
vices. Dr.  Douglas  A.  Thorn,  who,  from  his  exper- 
ence  in  France,  was  familiar  with  the  problems  of 
ex-service  men  suffering  from  mental  and  nervous 
diseases,  was  employed  by  the  National  Committee  to 
visit  large  centers  in  all  parts  of  the  country  for  the 
purpose  of  gathering  information  that  would  be  useful 
to  Government  officials  dealing  with  the  problem  in 
Washington  and  to  obtain  local  co-operation  between 
the  representatives  of  the  American  Red  Cross,  the  U.  S. 
Public  Health  Service,  the  Federal  Board  for  Vocational 
Education,  the  Bureau  of  War  Risk  Insurance  and  the 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  323 

local  civil  hospitals  and  clinics  in  handling  the  immediate 
situation.  Many  patients  benefited  from  this  co-oper- 
ation between  Government  and  local  agencies.  Where 
facilities  did  not  exist,  special  clinics  were  organized. 
Through  the  advice  of  Dr.  Thorn,  Division  psychiat- 
rists were  appointed  to  a  number  of  the  Administrative 
Divisions  of  the  Red  Cross  dealing  with  ex-soldier 
relief.  At  the  same  time  co-operation  was  further 
extended  by  the  activities  of  Miss  V.  M.  Macdonald, 
appointed  by  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene,  for  a  temporary  period,  to  assist  local  agencies 
throughout  the  country  in  obtaining  the  services  of 
suitably  trained  psychiatric  social  workers.  By  means 
of  a  special  fund  donated  by  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Milbank 
Anderson,  it  became  possible  for  the  National  Commit- 
tee to  supply  competent  psychiatric  social  workers,  for 
work  among  mentally  disabled  ex-service  men,  to  the 
following  communities:  Philadelphia,  Chicago,  New 
Haven,  Newark,  St.  Louis,  Cleveland  and  St.  Paul. 
During  this  period  of  neglect  of  disabled  ex-service  men, 
Mr.  Norman  Fenton,  who  had  been  on  duty  in  France 
with  Base  Hospital  117  (Special  Hospital  for  War 
Neuroses),  was  employed  by  the  National  Committee 
to  follow  up  the  cases  discharged  from  that  hospital. 
Through  his  services  over  a  thousand  of  these  men  were 
reached  at  home  and  assisted  in  overcoming  obstacles 
to  their  rehabilitation. 

In  meeting  the  emergency  described  above,  the 
National  Committee  realized  fully  that  it  was  but  temp- 
orizing with  the  details  of  a  situation  that  was  in  itself 


324  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

fundamentally  wrong.  Its  chief  efforts,  therefore,  were 
directed  toward  the  correction  of  the  basic  evils  respon- 
sible for  the  inadequate  organization  or  mal-adminis- 
tration  that  existed.  The  Medical  Director  devoted  his 
time  largely  to  assisting  those  Government  officials  who 
were  dealing  with  the  larger  aspects  of  the  problem.  A 
special  Advisory  Committee,  consisting  of  Drs.  Owen 
Copp,  Hugh  T.  Patrick,  H.  Douglas  Singer,  Albert  M. 
Barrett  and  Thomas  W.  Salmon,  all  members  or  officers 
of  the  National  Committee,  was  appointed  by  the  Sur- 
geon General  of  the  Public  Health  Service  to  assist  in 
the  solution  of  the  neuro-psychiatric  problem.  This 
committee  studied  the  situation  carefully,  submitted 
recommendations  containing  a  comprehensive  plan  for 
the  care  and  treatment  of  mentally  afflicted  ex-service 
men  and  women,  visited  Public  Health  Service  hospitals 
in  various  parts  of  the  country,  and  made  every  effort 
to  assist  that  Department  of  the  Government  in  its  work 
of  hospitalizing  sick  and  disabled  beneficiaries  of  the 
Bureau  of  War  Risk  Insurance.  This  Advisory  Com- 
mittee resigned  in  July,  1920,  when  it  became  convinced 
that  there  were  fundamental  differences  of  policy  between 
the  Surgeon  General  of  the  Public  Health  Service  and 
itself.  The  same  committee  was  later  invited  to  advise 
the  Bureau  of  War  Risk  Insurance  in  a  similar  capacity. 
About  this  time  the  Marion  National  Sanatorium 
(formerly  the  National  Home  for  Disabled  Volunteer 
Soldiers  in  Indiana)  was  opened  for  the  care  and  treat- 
ment of  mental  and  nervous  cases  among  ex-service 
men,  largely  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  Advisory 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  325 

Committee  mentioned.  This  institution  is  now  func- 
tioning with  about  500  beds,  and  when  the  work  of 
construction  and  expansion  is  completed,  it  will  have 
a  capacity  of  1,000  beds.  More  recently  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  was  freely  consulted 
in  the  work  of  reorganizing  the  Government  Bureaus 
dealing  with  ex-service  men  and  recently  the  Committee 
on  Hospitalization  of  the  Treasury  Department,  super- 
vising the  expenditure  of  the  $18,600,000  appropriated 
by  the  Congress  for  hospitals  for  sick  and  disabled  ex- 
soldiers,  invited  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene  to  co-operate  with  it  in  laying  out  an  adequate 
hospital  building  program.  Dr.  Salmon  spent  a  great 
deal  of  time  in  Washington  assisting  the  National  Hos- 
pitalization Committee  of  the  American  Legion  in  the 
most  important  work  that  has  so  far  been  done  for  the 
disabled  ex-service  men. 

It  may  be  said  that  had  The  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene  done  no  other  work  since  its  founding 
than  that  done  in  connection  with  the  war  and  during  the 
period  of  reconstruction,  it  would  have  more  than 
justified  its  existence.  Indeed,  much  of  the  neuro- 
psychiatric  work  of  the  war  could  not  have  been  done  at 
all,  owing  to  the  need  for  prompt  action,  had  not  this 
unofficial,  civil  agency  been  actively  in  operation  when 
war  was  declared. 


While  carrying  on  its  reconstruction  work  since  the 
war,  the  National  Committee  has  been  vigorously  con- 


326  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

ducting  surveys  of  the  care  and  treatment  of  the  insane 
and  feebleminded.  Surveys  of  mental  disease  in  two  of 
the  largest  cities  in  the  country  revealed  unbelievable 
conditions,  which  are  now  being  corrected.  In  New 
Jersey,  a  State- wide  survey  of  mental  diseases  has  been 
made.  Surveys  of  the  care  of  the  feebleminded  have 
been  made  in  Georgia,  Tennessee,  Mississippi,  Alabama, 
South  Carolina,  Missouri,  Maryland,  West  Virginia, 
Wisconsin  and  in  Hamilton  County,  Ohio.  These  have 
had  far-reaching  results.  In  most  instances,  new  laws 
have  been  enacted  and  appropriations  totaling  several 
millions  of  dollars  for  new  institutions  have  been  voted. 

Summary 

The  future  usefulness  of  the  National  Committee 
is  reflected  in  the  following  summary  of  what  has  been 
accomplished  since  it  began  work.  Ten  years  ago 
there  was  a  discouraging  lack  of  public  interest  in  even 
the  humanitarian  care  of  those  ill  from  nervous  and 
mental  diseases.  Such  information  as  was  current 
among  the  general  public  as  to  the  causes  of  these  dis- 
eases, their  nature  and  course  was  largely  misinformation; 
students  were  allowed  to  graduate  from  medical  schools 
with  practically  no  knowledge  of  and  no  interest  in  psy- 
chiatry; the  early  manifestations  of  these  diseases  were 
entirely  unrecognized ;  to  be  cared  for  even  in  an  asylum 
a  patient  must  needs  be  " dangerously  mad";  the  rela- 
tionship between  the  early  manifestations  of  nervous  and 
mental  disorders,  delinquency,  dependency  and  general 
social  inefficiency  was  scarcely  even  suspected  by  leaders 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  327 

in  the  professional  groups  dealing  with  these  problems; 
annually,  meetings  were  held  by  national  bodies  which 
discussed  various  social  problems,  but  with  little  under- 
standing or  realization  of  the  importance  of  the  personal 
equation. 

To-day  asylums  are  becoming  hospitals;  names  are 
changed — from  "  State  Insane  Asylum "  to  "  State 
Hospital  for  Mental  Diseases";  from  "  State  Board  of 
Insanity  "  to  "  State  Commission  for  Mental  Hygiene  " 
(and  these  changes  are  not  merely  changes  in  name). 
The  State  of  Connecticut  has  established  a  Division  of 
Mental  Hygiene  in  its  Department  of  Health,  and 
other  States  are  planning  to  do  so.  The  City  of  New- 
ark has  a  Bureau  of  Mental  Hygiene,  and  other  cities 
will  soon  have  such  bureaus.  Through  changes  in 
State  laws,  voluntary  and  temporary  care,  observation, 
emergency  care  and  hospital  facilities  are  being  made 
more  accessible.  Out-patient  departments  and  mental 
hygiene  clinics  are  being  organized  and  extended  so 
that  expert  local  facilities  may  be  at  the  service  of  the 
community.  Care  and  treatment  in  many  hospitals  has 
improved  and  the  number  who  annually  recover  from 
mental  illness  increases.  More  attention  is  being 
focussed  upon  the  early  manifestations  of  mental  illness; 
and  the  relationship  between  these  early  conditions  and 
delinquency,  dependency  and  social  maladjustment 
generally  are  now  recognized.  With  this  recognition 
has  come  the  establishment  of  psychiatric  clinics  in 
juvenile  courts  and  the  extension  of  these  clinics  to  adult 
courts.     Furthermore,  similar  clinics  are  being  estab- 


328  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

lished  in  prisons  and  reformatories.  Many  States  which 
had  no  special  institutions  for  the  feebleminded  have 
established  them,  and  soon  all  States  will  have  such 
institutions.  Organizations  dealing  with  delinquent 
and  dependent  children,  instead  of  planning,  in  a  blind 
sort  of  way,  for  placing  out  children,  are  seeking  to 
understand  the  special  mental  disabilities  and  aptitudes 
of  children.  Universities  and  colleges,  reflecting  student 
interest,  are  forming  courses  in  mental  hygiene;  and 
normal  schools  are  organizing  courses  in  the  mental 
hygiene  of  childhood.  Collections  of  books  and  pam- 
phlets on  mental  hygiene  have  been  made  and  are  now 
accessible  to  the  public.  Statistics  on  mental  disease 
have  been  made  uniform  in  this  country  and  similar  work 
is  being  done  with  reference  to  mental  deficiency.  Schools 
of  social  work  are  giving  instruction  in  mental  hygiene 
and  in  the  two  largest  schools  of  the  country  a  course  in 
mental  hygiene  is  required  for  graduation.  A  per- 
manent Division  of  Mental  Hygiene  has  been  estab- 
lished by  the  National  Conference  of  Social  Work  and  the 
meetings  of  this  division  are  among  those  which  attract 
the  largest  audiences  at  the  Conference.  Social  agencies 
dealing  with  various  aspects  of  human  problems  have 
felt  the  need  not  only  of  workers  with  some  knowledge  of 
mental  hygiene,  but  of  workers  with  very  special  knowl- 
edge and,  to  supply  these,  courses  for  the  training  of 
psychiatric  social  workers  have  been  established.  Indus- 
try has  become  interested  and  special  researches  have 
been  undertaken  by  such  organizations  as  the  New  York 
Engineering  Foundation,  and  a  national  federation  for 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  329 

the  study  of  industrial  personnel  has  been  organized, 
of  which  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 
is  a  member.  This  interest  that  has  permeated  various 
fields  of  activity  has  reacted  upon  the  medical  schools 
and  is  bringing  about  more  adequate  teaching  of  psychi- 
atry and  the  development  of  clinics;  and,  in  turn,  has 
led  to  a  definite  plan,  now  being  put  into  effect,  of  endow- 
ing chairs  of  psychiatry  in  medical  schools  and  providing 
adequate  teaching  facilities. 

Societies  for  Mental  Hygiene,  affiliated  with  the 
National  Committee,  have  been  organized  in  twenty 
States,  plans  for  organizing  them  in  six  other  States  are 
now  under  way,  and  groups  interested  in  plans  for 
organizing  such  societies  exist  in  a  number  of  other 
States,  as  indicated  by  the  map  which  appears  on 
page  331.  Leading  citizens  in  the  various  States, 
appreciating  the  need  for  organized  mental  hygiene 
work,  willingly  serve  as  members  of  the  directorates 
of  these  societies.  It  is  evident  that  in  time  all  States  will 
have  such  indispensable  social  agencies,  or  their  equiva- 
lent, at  work  within  their  borders.  Owing  to  the  diffi- 
culty of  securing  adequate  funds  for  the  proper  develop- 
ment of  their  pioneer  work,  some  of  the  State  Societies 
are  not  yet  able  to  employ  full-time  medical  directors 
or  psychiatric  social  workers.  But  even  these  organiza- 
tions are  able  to  exert  a  helpful  influence  and  through 
them  persons  in  need  of  advice  can  usually  be  aided. 
Through  those  societies  and  committees  which  have 
been  able  to  employ  salaried  workers,  thousands  of 
people,  during  the  past  few  years,  have  been  helped. 


330  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

It  may  be  said  that  work  in  prevention  can  never  be 
done  with  full  efficiency  until  all  State  Societies  are 
adequately  staffed  and  financed,  since  it  is  the  State 
agency  and  its  local  committees  that  can  best  reach  the 
individual  when  advice  and  guidance  are  most  needed. 
Work  done  in  mental  hygiene  in  the  United  States 
has  led  to  similar  work  in  other  countries.  An  efficient 
national  committee  is  at  work  in  Canada;  the  equiva- 
lent of  a  national  committee  has  been  organized  in 
France,  under  the  name  of  "  League  for  Mental  Hygiene" ; 
a  national  committee  is  in  process  of  organization  in 
South  Africa;  and  representative  groups  in  Great 
Britain,  Australia,  Holland,  and  other  countries,  are 
already  making  plans  for  organizing  such  agencies. 
An  Organizing  Committee,  composed  of  representatives 
of  several  of  the  existing  national  organizations,  of 
which  Dr.  Stephen  P.  Duggan  is  Temporary  Chairman 
and  Mr.  Clifford  W.  Beers  is  Temporary  Secretary,  is 
engaged  in  the  task  of  organizing  an  International 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene.  Special  gifts  for 
some  of  the  preliminary  organizing  expenses  have  already 
been  secured.  At  the  back  of  this  book,  lists  of  the 
officers  and  members  of  the  "national  committees" 
will  be  found;  also  a  directory  of  affiliated  national 
and  State  organizations. 

Popular  Education 

The  principal  reason  for  the  slow  advance  in  the  care 
of  the  insane  and  the  feebleminded  is  the  amazing  lack 
of  general  knowledge  regarding  mental  diseases  and 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


33  * 


332  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

mental  deficiency  and  the  needs  of  those  suffering  from 
them.  Therefore,  it  is  an  important  part  of  the  work  to 
stimulate  popular  interest  in  the  welfare  of  these  suf- 
ferers who  have  been  singularly  neglected  and  thus  lay 
the  groundwork  for  the  creation  of  local  agencies 
capable  of  carrying  on  effective  work  for  betterment. 

Much  has  been  accomplished  toward  this  end  during 
recent  years  and  there  is  evidence  of  a  rapidly  growing 
interest  in  mental  hygiene.  The  extension  departments 
of  several  Western  universities  have  taken  up  the  subject 
and  have  issued  pamphlets  dealing  with  various  phases 
of  it.  Some  illustrations  of  this  new  interest  are  the 
inclusion  of  a  chapter  on  mental  hygiene  in  textbooks 
and  general  works,  and  the  appearance  of  a  number  of 
articles  on  the  subject  in  the  popular  magazines.  The 
National  Committee  has  been  requested  on  several  occa- 
sions to  arrange  symposiums  in  connection  with  impor- 
tant conferences  and  to  outline  courses  of  lectures  on 
mental  hygiene  for  use  in  schools,  colleges  and  uni- 
versities. A  number  of  articles  upon  subjects  related  to 
mental  hygiene  have  been  referred  for  criticism.  No 
efforts  are  spared  in  giving  advice  of  this  sort,  for  it  is 
felt  that  the  harm  which  can  be  done  by  the  circulation 
of  misleading  information  makes  it  a  duty  to  aid  in  the 
preparation  of  such  articles. 

Library 

In  its  educational  work,  a  valuable  library  of  approx- 
imately one  thousand  books,  twelve  thousand  pamphlets 
and  one  hundred  and  fifty  sets  of  periodicals  has  been 


MENTAL    HYGIENE   MOVEMENT  333 

established  by  the  National  Committee.  It  is  believed 
that  this  is  the  largest  collection  of  material  dealing  with 
mental  hygiene  that  has  yet  been  assembled.  Owing 
to  the  comparative  newness  of  the  subject,  most  of  the 
material  is  in  pamphlet  form.  The  object  has  been  to 
create  a  library  that  will  be  of  use  not  only  to  physicians, 
but  to  laymen,  especially  to  social  workers.  Hundreds 
of  people  have  availed  themselves  of  the  privileges  of 
the  library.  A  useful  service  has  consisted  in  the  prep- 
aration of  bibliographies  on  various  phases  of  mental 
hygiene,  in  response  to  specific  requests  for  such  informa- 
tion. Miss  M.  Florence  Wilson,  now  Librarian  of  the 
League  of  Nations,  was  the  first  librarian.  Miss  Mabel 
W.  Brown,  who  succeeded  her  in  1916,  served  until 
1920,  the  period  of  greatest  growth. 

The  development  of  the  library  has  been  hampered 
through  lack  of  funds  for  the  purchase  of  new  books. 
Several  hundred  have  been  listed  for  purchase  when  funds 
are  available.  The  largest  single  acquisition  of  books 
came  through  a  bequest  from  the  late  Dr.  Morris  Karpas, 
who  died  in  France  while  in  the  Neuro-psychiatric  Ser- 
vice of  the  A.  E.  F.  In  May,  1921,  when  the  National 
Committee  established  new  offices  in  the  Penn  Terminal 
Building  (New  York),  in  co-operation  with  a  number  of 
other  national  health  agencies,  its  library  was  merged 
with  the  joint  library  which  now  serves  all  of  the  partici- 
pating organizations.  The  mental  hygiene  section  of  it, 
however,  remains  intact  and  will  be  developed  under  the 
direction  of  The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hy- 
giene, by  which,  of  course,  it  is  still  owned. 


334  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Statistics 

The  Division  of  Statistics  of  the  National  Committee, 
with  Miss  E.  M.  Furbush  in  charge,  has  done  notable 
work.  It  has  assembled  a  vast  amount  of  data  relating 
to  legislation  affecting  the  insane,  feebleminded  and 
epileptic  in  all  States.  As  a  result,  the  Committee 
publishes  from  time  to  time  "  Summaries  of  the  Laws 
Relating  to  the  Care  and  Commitment  of  the  Insane" 
and  "Summaries  of  the  Laws  Relating  to  the  Care  and 
Commitment  of  the  Feebleminded."  There  has  been  a 
wide  and  steady  demand  for  these  useful  documents. 

Realizing  that  uniform  statistics  on  mental  diseases 
were  sorely  needed,  the  National  Committee,  in  co-op- 
eration with  the  American  Psychiatric  Society  (formerly 
known  as  the  American  Medico-Psychological  Associa- 
tion), has  instituted  a  system  of  uniform  statistics  on 
the  subject.  As  a  result,  it  will  soon  be  possible  to 
compare  the  reports  of  the  several  hundred  institutions 
in  this  country  in  which  mental  cases  are  cared  for  and 
present  dependable  findings.  Owing  to  the  success 
attained  in  the  direction  mentioned,  the  National 
Committee,  in  co-operation  with  the  American  Associa- 
tion for  the  Study  of  Feeblemindedness,  has  undertaken 
the  task  of  introducing  uniform  statistics  on  mental 
deficiency.     This  work  is  progressing  satisfactorily. 

Each  year  a  statistical  summary  of  the  number  of 
insane,  feebleminded  and  epileptic  in  institutions  in  this 
country  is  published  in  the  quarterly  magazine,  Mental 
Hygiene.    It  is  now  no  longer  necessary  to  await  the 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  335 

publication  of  similar  statistics  published  by  the  U.  S. 
Census  Bureau,  which  appear  at  intervals  of  several 
years  and  then,  as  more  intensive  studies  have  shown, 
only  in  incomplete  form. 

Mental  Hygiene  Conventions 

A  distinctive  feature  of  the  work  of  the  year  19 14 
was  the  holding  of  the  First  Convention  of  Societies  for 
Mental  Hygiene,  under  the  auspices  of  the  National 
Committee.  This  convention  consisted  of  two  public 
meetings,  held  at  Baltimore  on  Monday,  May  25th, 
1 9 14.  Active  workers  of  ten  Societies  and  Committees 
for  Mental  Hygiene  took  part  in  the  afternoon  session, 
which  had  been  arranged  for  the  especial  purpose  of 
enabling  the  active  workers  to  learn  what  others  engaged 
in  similar  work  were  doing  in  their  respective  fields. 
In  the  evening  the  work  of  the  National  Committee 
was  the  chief  topic  for  discussion.  The  Second  Con- 
vention of  Societies  for  Mental  Hygiene  was  held  at 
New  Orleans  in  April,  1916.  The  Third  Convention 
was  held  at  New  York  in  February,  1920.  An  increased 
number  of  State  societies  and  two  National  Committees, 
representing  this  country  and  Canada,  participated. 
When  the  projected  International  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene  shall  have  been  founded,  an  International 
Congress  on  Mental  Hygiene  will  be  held.  Plans  for 
such  a  Congress  are  now  being  considered. 

This  extraordinary  progress,  in  which  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  has  played  either  a 
direct  or  an  indirect  part,  directly  influences  many  thous- 


336  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

ands  of  human  lives  and  directly  diminishes  a  vast 
amount  of  human  suffering.  Ten  years  ago  a  handful 
of  specialists  were  interested  in  these  problems.  To-day 
it  is  probably  safe  to  say  that  there  is  not  a  leader  in  any 
profession  that  deals  with  problems  of  the  individual  but 
realizes,  or  is  beginning  to  realize,  that  the  mental  aspects 
of  the  problem  with  which  he  deals  cannot  be  ignored. 

It  seems  only  fair  to  those  who  had  the  idealism  to  com- 
mence this  work  and  to  carry  it  on  in  spite  of  very  great 
obstacles,  and  to  those  who  helped  finance  the  work, 
that  these  achievements  should  be  far  more  generally 
known.  They  afford  a  safe  guarantee  for  success  in  the 
work  which  lies  directly  ahead. 

Magnitude  of  Problems 
Mental  Diseases 

It  has  been  proposed  to  abandon  the  term  " insanity' ' 
in  medicine.  If  this  were  done,  "  the  insane  "  would 
consist  only  of  people  with  mental  diseases  who,  in  addi- 
tion, suffer  from  some  such  legal  disability  as  enforced 
detention  in  an  institution  or  deprivation  of  certain  civil 
rights.  Though  many  mentally  sick  persons,  unfortu- 
nately, would  still  be  insane,  the  majority  would  not  be. 

Not  only  mental  diseases  among  those  who  are  not 
" insane"  (to  use  this  word  in  the  sense  proposed),  but 
other  disorders  that  are  classified  as  mental  diseases  only 
for  convenience  have  come  into  the  field  of  psychiatry. 
Mental  deficiency — with  its  enormously  important  radia- 
tions into  poverty,  delinquency  and  crime — lies    to-day 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  337 

very  largely  within  the  field  of  psychiatry  as  do  the 
psycho-neuroses,  which  originate,  run  their  course  and 
end  in  the  home,  the  school,  the  factory  and  the  military 
camp. 

Very  few  people  realize  what  a  vast  domain  in  medicine 
is  actually  filled  by  the  three  groups  of  mental  disorders 
that  have  just  been  mentioned.  At  the  end  of  the  year 
1919,  there  were  in  this  country  approximately  250,000 
patients  in  hospitals  for  mental  diseases,  cared  for  during 
that  year  at  a  cost  of  approximately  $50,000,000.  The 
number  of  insane  in  institutions  almost  equals  the  total 
number  of  patients  in  all  the  general  hospitals  in  the 
United  States.  In  the  Army  and  Navy,  mental  diseases 
have  for  many  years  occupied  first  or  second  place  in 
discharges  for  disability.  States  that  make  full  pro- 
vision for  the  care  of  mental  diseases  in  public  institutions 
spend  more  for  this  purpose  than  they  do  for  any  other, 
except  education.  In  the  State  of  New  York,  in  1919, 
one  death  in  twenty-two  in  the  whole  adult  population 
occurred  in  a  hospital  for  the  insane.  At  the  end  of  the 
year  19 19,  thirty-six  per  cent  of  all  hospital  patients 
cared  for  as  beneficiaries  of  the  Veterans'  Bureau  were 
mental  or  nervous  cases. 

No  one  knows  how  prevalent  the  psycho-neuroses  are 
in  the  civil  population.  Some  idea  may  be  gained  from 
half  an  hour's  consideration  of  fifty  of  the  men,  and  then- 
wives,  whom  you  know  best,  reviewing  in  your  mind  the 
number  of  instances  in  which  there  has  occurred,  to  your 
personal  knowledge,  some  kind  of  " nervous  breakdown" 
or  other  evidence  of  a  psycho-neurotic  reaction  to  the 


338  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

vicissitudes  of  life.  In  the  World  War,  the  psycho- 
neuroses,  as  everyone  now  knows,  constituted  a  major 
medico-military  problem  in  the  armies  of  our  Allies. 
Twenty  per  cent  of  the  soldiers  discharged  for  disability 
from  the  British  Army  had  one  or  another  of  the  dis- 
orders grouped  under  the  terms  "  shell  shock,'.'  "  neuras- 
thenia" or  the  better  one  of  "war  neurosis."  Our  own 
military  medical  officers  who  were  interested  in  the  clin- 
ical aspects  of  chemical  warfare  told  how  the  "gas  neu- 
roses" bothered  them  in  the  gas  hospitals  near  the  front. 
The  orthopedists  described  the  weird  aura  of  functional 
symptoms  that  surrounded  undoubtedly  organic  cases 
and  served  to  retard  recovery  or  to  increase  disability. 
The  internists  gave  a  name  suggesting  effort  rather  than 
lack  of  it  to  the  functional  heart  disorders  of  the  soldier, 
but  all  of  them  agreed  upon  the  essentially  psycho- 
neurotic nature  of  the  reaction.  In  our  army  in  France, 
the  wave  of  war  neuroses  among  combatant  troops  rose 
until  it  caused  no  little  apprehension  among  line  as  well  as 
medical  officers  and  then,  under  a  system  of  management 
based  squarely  upon  a  psycho-biological  conception  of 
the  nature  and  genesis  of  functional  nervous  diseases, 
subsided  until  it  ceased  to  threaten  the  morale  of  troops 
or  to  constitute  a  drain  upon  our  over-taxed  hospital 
facilities.  In  the  camps  in  the  United  States,  as  Colonel 
Bailey  has  shown,  these  disorders  played  an  even  larger 
part  than  they  did  on  the  battlefields  and  in  the  base 
hospitals  of  France. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  339 

Mental  Deficiency 

It  is  conservatively  estimated  that  there  are  in  the 
United  States  at  least  300,000  mentally  deficient  or,  as 
they  are  more  commonly  called,  feebleminded  persons,  of 
whom  fewer  than  50,000  are  in  institutions.  It  is  believed 
that  in  the  State  of  New  York  alone  there  are  40,000 
feebleminded  persons  outside  of  institutions.  All  of  the 
feebleminded  do  not  require  institutional  care,  but  a 
great  increase  in  institutional  provision  is  urgently 
needed  throughout  the  country. 

Delinquency 

Each  year  in  this  country  alone  about  500,000  men, 
women  and  children  at  least  half  of  whom  are  mentally 
disordered,  mentally  deficient  or  unstable  individuals, 
pass  through  the  courts  into  correctional  institutions. 
The  hand  of  the  law  falls  not  only  upon  this  great  army  of 
convicted  offenders,  but  also  upon  an  undetermined,  but 
certainly  very  large  number  of  quite  innocent  persons 
who  suffer  shame,  loneliness  or  destitution  through  the 
sudden  loss  of  those  upon  whom  they  are  in  some  measure 
dependent.  Imprisonment  of  wage  earners  ranks  with 
desertion,  tuberculosis  and  mental  diseases  as  a  cause  of 
dependence  among  young  mothers  and  their  children. 
The  financial  cost  of  imprisoning  500,000  persons  each 
year  is  enormous,  but  it  represents  only  a  part  of  the 
cost  of  the  effort  which  every  community  must  con- 
stantly put  forth  to  repress  crime. 


34Q  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Prevention 

Mankind's  warfare  against  disease  has  been  con- 
ducted in  two  great  phases.  The  first,  following  many 
centuries  of  entire  defenselessness,  consisted  wholly 
in  the  erection  of  special  defenses  during  emergencies. 
This  was  the  period  of  quarantines,  segregation  of  infected 
persons  and  the  beginning  of  efforts  to  eliminate  poisons 
from  food,  air  and  water.  In  the  second  phase,  that 
through  which  we  are  now  passing,  we  seek  to  supple- 
ment, or  in  some  directions  actually  to  substitute  for, 
the  defensive  measures  of  the  first  phase,  efforts  to 
anticipate  disease  by  destroying  its  agencies  before 
imminent  danger  exists  and  to  fortify  the  natural 
powers  of  human  resistance  through  increasing  immunity 
and  bodily  vigor.  It  is  as  much  an  object,  in  this 
phase,  to  enable  the  weak  to  become  strong,  the  strong 
to  become  stronger,  the  healthy  to  become  healthier 
and  the  vigorous  to  become  more  vigorous  as  it  is  to 
prevent  disease  and  to  defer  death. 

It  is  believed  that  with  the  knowledge  now  in  our  pos- 
session, with  opportunity  to  make  widely  known  the 
enormously  important  lessons  in  mental  hygiene  taught 
by  the  war  and  with  the  receptive  public  attitude  that 
now  exists,  mental  hygiene  may  take  its  place  by  the 
side  of  other  major  activities  in  the  great  field  of  pre- 
ventive medicine.  In  helping  to  place  it  there,  The 
National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  will  simply  be 
carrying  out  its  chief  objective:  work  in  prevention. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  341 

Conclusion 

In  the  foregoing  pages,  with  many  omissions  and  with 
many  important  and  productive  activities  merely  indi- 
cated, there  have  been  outlined  the  steps  by  which  a 
new  health  movement  originated,  grew,  developed 
practical  methods,  found  useful  fields  in  which  to  work, 
served  our  country  in  a  great  war,  and  gradually  won 
recognition  and  support.  Never,  except  for  the  first 
three  years,  supplied  with  sufficient  funds  to  undertake 
half  the  tasks  that  lay  clearly  before  it,  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene  is  to-day  making  its 
influence  felt  in  many  parts  of  the  wide  domain  in  which 
mental  disorders  cloud  the  lives  of  individuals  and 
menace  the  security  of  society. 

The  time  has  come  to  appeal  to  the  public  to  provide 
the  support  that  heretofore  has  been  given  by  the  few. 
The  time  has  come  for  stabilizing,  upon  the  permanent 
foundation  of  endowment,  work  already  under  way 
that  cannot  be  abandoned,  for  developing  along  new 
lines,  disclosed  by  what  has  been  accomplished,  and  for 
participating  more  fully  in  the  organized  health  and 
social  activities  of  every  community.  Under  sound, 
experienced,  scientific  direction,  with  adequate  financial 
support  and  the  continued  confidence  of  the  great  phi- 
lanthropic foundations  that  have  investigated  its  work 
and  approved  its  methods,  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene  can  play  a  very  large  part  in  the 
future  in  limiting  the  ravages  of  a  group  of  grave  dis- 
eases, increasing  the  fullness  and  efficiency  of  life  for 


342  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

those  who  have  to  battle  with  lesser  mental  handicaps, 
promoting  the  salvage  and  profitable  use  of  much  defec- 
tive human  material,  lifting  some  almost  intolerable 
burdens  from  childhood,  and  pointing  the  way  to  more 
effective  management  of  social  ills  in  which  mental 
factors  exert  a  controlling  influence. 


Ill 

PUBLICATIONS 

A  large  number  of  pamphlets  and  reports,  issued  or 
distributed  by  The  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene,  many  of  which  may  be  had  for  the  asking,  are 
listed  on  pages  following  this  description  of  its  official 
quarterly  magazine,  the  publication  of  which  was  begun 
in  January,  191 7. 

MENTAL  HYGIENE 

A  New  Magazine  in  a  New  Field 


AIM 

Mental  Hygiene  aims  to  present  non-technical  articles 
on  the  practical  management  of  mental  problems  in  all 
relations  of  life. 

FIELD 

Adaptation  of  education  to  needs  of  the  individual. 

Study  of  mental  factors  in  dependency,  delinquency, 
crime  and  industry. 

Management  of  alcoholism  and  drug  addiction. 

Control  of  mental  deficiency. 

Prevention  and  treatment  of  mental  diseases  and 
epilepsy. 

343 


344  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

FOR 

All  thoughtful  readers — especially  physicians,  lawyers, 
clergymen,  educators,  public  officials,  and  students  of 
social  problems. 

Mental  Hygiene  will  present  to  a  wide  circle  of  readers 
popular  articles  on  the  practical  management  of  mental 
problems  in  all  relations  of  life.  These  articles  will 
give  the  results  of  study  and  work  in  new  and  vitally 
important  enterprises.  To-day,  as  never  before,  atten- 
tion is  being  directed  to  mental  factors  in  the  problems 
of  the  individual  and  of  society.  These  factors  are  of 
paramount  importance  in  the  study  and  practical 
management  of  delinquency,  crime  and  inebriety. 
We  no  longer  ignore  the  fact  that  education  must  meet 
the  needs  of  children  who  present  special  difficulties  of 
adaption.  The  widespread  determination  to  control 
feeblemindedness  raises  questions  of  economics,  law, 
and  medicine  which  demand  the  most  thoughtful  con- 
sideration. New  ideals  in  the  care  and  treatment  of 
those  suffering  from  mental  disorders  are  imposing  new 
obligations  upon  the  public  authorities.  The  recogni- 
tion of  preventable  causes  of  mental  diseases  challenges 
us  to  seek  in  the  field  of  mental  hygiene  victories  com- 
parable to  those  achieved  in  general  hygiene  and  sani- 
tation. 

Mental  Hygiene  will  bring  dependable  information 
and  a  new  inspiration  to  everyone  whose  interest  or 
whose  work  brings  him  into  contact  with  these  prob- 
lems.   Writers  of  authority  will  present  original  com- 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  345 

munications  and  reviews  of  important  books;  note- 
worthy articles  in  periodicals  out  of  convenient  reach 
of  the  general  public  will  be  republished;  reports  of 
surveys,  special  investigations,  and  new  methods  of 
prevention  or  treatment  in  the  broad  field  of  mental 
hygiene  and  psychopathology  will  be  presented  and 
discussed  in  as  non-technical  a  way  as  possible.  Many 
articles  that  will  be  helpful  to  parents  will  be  published. 
It  is  our  aim  to  make  Mental  Hygiene  indispensable  to 
all  thoughtful  readers. 

The  subscription  price  is  two  dollars  a  year.  Single 
copies  are  fifty  cents  each.  Subscribers  may  make 
checks  payable  to  Mental  Hygiene  or  to  The  National 
Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  Inc.,  (370  Seventh 
Avenue,  New  York  City).  A  reduced  facsimile  of  the 
cover  of  the  issue  of  July,  192 1,  appears  on  page  317. 

PAMPHLETS  AND  REPORTS 

It  is  impossible  in  a  book  to  give  a  list  of  publications 
that  will  remain  up-to-date.  In  consequence,  those 
interested  are  urged  to  write  to  The  National  Committee 
for  Mental  Hygiene  for  a  copy  of  its  current  List  of 
Publications,  which  is  issued  from  time  to  time.  A 
few  of  the  titles,  however,  are  presented,  so  that  readers 
may  sense  their  nature.  They  show  what  sort  of  article 
appears  in  Mental  Hygiene,  as  many  of  them  are  reprints 
from  that  magazine. 


346  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Principles  of  Mental  Hygiene  Applied  to  the  Manage- 
ment of  Children  Predisposed  to  Nervousness.    By 

Dr.  Lewellys  F.  Barker. 
Experiences  of  the  Child;    How  They  Affect  Character 

and  Behavior.    By  Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell. 
Nervous    Children    and  Their  Training.     By    Dr.    C. 

Macfie  Campbell. 
Childhood;    the   Golden  Period  for  Mental  Hygiene. 

By  Dr.  William  A.  White. 
Mental  Health  for  Normal  Children.      By  William  H. 

Burnham. 
Health  Examination  at  School  Entrance.    By  William 

H.  Burnham. 
Some  Adaptive  Difficulties  Found  in  School  Children. 

By  Esther  L.  Richards. 
A  Survey  of  the  Teaching  of  Mental  Hygiene  in  the 

Normal  Schools.     By  William  H.  Burnham. 
The  Right  to  Marry.    By  Dr.  Adolf  Meyer. 
Education  and  Mental  Hygiene.     By  Dr.  C.  Macfie 

Campbell. 
Responsibilities  of  the  Universities  in  Promoting  Mental 

Hygiene.    By  Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell. 
Mental  Hygiene   and  the   College   Student.    By  Dr. 

Frankwood  E.  Williams. 
Mobilizing  the  Brains  of  the  Nation.    By  Dr.  Stewart 

Paton. 
Efficiency  and  Inefficiency;    a  Problem  in  Medicine. 

By  Dr.  Pearce  Bailey. 
The  Movement  for  a  Mental  Hygiene  of  Industry.    By 

Dr.  E.  E.  Southard. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  347 

Mental    Hygiene    in    Industry.     By    Dr.    C.    Macfie 

Campbell. 
Psychiatric  Lessons  from  the  War.     By  Dr.  Thomas 

W.  Salmon. 
Future  of  Psychiatry  in  the  Army.    By  Dr.  Thomas 

W.  Salmon. 
Psychopathic    Hospitals    and    Prophylaxis.     By    Dr. 

Frankwood  E.  Williams. 
Unemployment    and    Personality.     By    Dr.    Herman 

Adler. 
Anxiety  and  Fear.     By  Dr.  Frankwood  E.  Williams. 
Relation  of  Alcohol  and  Syphilis  to  Mental  Hygiene. 

By  Dr.  Frankwood  E.  Williams. 
Burden    of    Feeblemindedness.     By    Dr.    Walter    E. 

Fernald. 
Growth    of    Provision    for    the    Feebleminded    in    the 

United  States.     By  Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald. 
State  Program  for  the  Care  of  the  Feebleminded.     By 

Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald. 
What  is  Practicable  in  the  Way  of  Prevention  of  Mental 

Defect.    By  Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald. 
Function   of   Special   Classes   for   Mentally   Defective 

Children.    By  Ada  M.  Fitts. 
State  Institutions  for  the  Feebleminded.     By  Dr.  V. 

V.  Anderson. 
Mental  Clinics  in  the  Court.     By  Dr.  V.  V.  Anderson. 
A  National  Deficit  (Mental  Deficiency).    By  Dr.  V. 

V.  Anderson. 
Education   of    Mental   Defectives    in    State   and   Pri- 
vate Institutions  and  in  Special  Classes  in  Public 


348  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Schools  in  the  United  States.    By  Dr.   V.   V. 
Anderson. 

Mental  Deficiency;  Its  Frequency  and  Characteristics 
in  the  United  States  as  Determined  by  the  Exam- 
ination of  Recruits.  By  Dr.  Pearce  Bailey  and 
Roy  Haber. 

Feeblemindedness  and  the  Law.  By  Dr.  Thomas  W. 
Salmon. 

Colony  and  Extra-Institutional  Care  for  the  Feeble- 
minded.   By  Dr.  Charles  Bernstein. 

Type  of  Feebleminded  Who  Can  be  Cared  for  in  the 
Community.    By  Dr.  George  N.  Wallace. 

Types  of  Delinquent  Careers.    By  Dr.  Bernard  Glueck. 

Concerning  Prisoners.    By  Dr.  Bernard  Glueck. 

Medico-psychological  Study  of  Delinquents.  By  Dr. 
William  Healy  and  Augusta  F.  Bronner. 

Three  Cases  of  Larceny.    By  Dr.  Edith  R.  Spaulding. 

Disciplinary  Measures  in  the  Management  of  the 
Psychopathic  Woman.     By  Jessie  D.  Hodder. 

Community  Organization  for  Mental  Hygiene.  By 
Dr.  Owen  Copp. 

Barriers  to  the  Treatment  of  Mental  Patients.  By 
Dr.  Owen  Copp. 

Community  Responsibility  in  the  Treatment  of  Mental 
Disorders.    By  Dr.  William  L.  Russell. 

Mental  Pitfalls  of  Adolescence.  By  Dr.  Henry  R. 
Stedman. 

Why  Should  So  Many  Go  Insane?  By  Homer  Folks 
and  Everett  Elwood. 

Psychiatric  Social  Work.    By  Mary  C.  Jarrett. 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  349 

Social  Service  for  the  Mentally  Sick  a  Good  Investment 

for  the  State.    By  V.  M.  Macdonald. 
Purposes,    Plans    and    Work    of    State    Societies    for 

Mental  Hygiene.    By  Clifford  W.  Beers. 
Outline  of  a  State  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene.     By 

Dr.  E.  Stanley  Abbot. 
The  Possibilities  of  a  State  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene. 

By  Dr.  H.  Douglas  Singer. 
Dementia  Praecox  as  a  Social  Problem.    By  Horatio 

M.  Pollock. 
Decline  of  Alcohol  as  a  Cause  of  Insanity.    By  Horatio 

M.  Pollock. 
Annual  Census  of  the  Insane,  Feebleminded,  Epileptics 

and  Inebriates  in  Institutions  in  the  United  States. 

By  Horatio  M.  Pollock  and  Edith  M.  Furbush. 

Issued  each  year  by  The  National  Committee  for 

Mental  Hygiene. 
Statistical  Manual  for  the  use  of  Institutions  for  Mental 

Diseases.    By  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  The  National 

Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene. 
Summaries   of    State   Laws   Relating    to    the   Insane. 

(Price  $1.00).     Issued,  from  time  to  time,  by  The 

National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene. 
Summaries  of  State  Laws  Relating  to  the  Feebleminded 

and  Epileptic.     (Price,$i.oo.)     Issued,   from  time 

time,   by  The   National    Committee   for    Mental 

Hygiene. 


IV 

The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 

370  Seventh  Avenue,  New  York  City. 
(Penn  Terminal  Building,  Corner  of  31st  Street) 

Form  of  Organization 

Officers,  Directors  and  Members 
(As  of  October  1,  1921) 

The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene,  founded 
on  February  19th,  1909,  was  incorporated  in  191 6  under 
the  Membership  Corporations  Law  of  the  State  of  New 
York.  The  affairs  of  the  organization  are  managed  by  a 
Board  of  Directors,  consisting  of  five  groups  elected  by 
the  National  Committee,  for  one,  two,  three,  four  and 
five  years,  respectively.  The  Board  at  each  annual 
meeting  elects  from  its  own  membership  an  Executive 
Committee  and  a  Finance  Committee,  and  the  Na- 
tional Committee  elects  the  President,  Vice-Presidents, 
Treasurer,  and  the  Secretary.  The  chief  executive 
officer  is  appointed  by  the  Board  upon  prior  nomination 
by  the  Executive  Committee;  the  Secretary  is  elected 
at  each  annual  meeting  of  the  National  Committee.  All 
special  or  sub-committees  are  appointed  by  the  Exec- 
utive Committee,  to  which  they  report. 

Members  may  be  elected  by  the  National  Committee 
or  by  the  Executive  Committee,  as  provided  in  the 
by-laws.    The  membership,  originally  limited  to  seventy, 

350 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT  351 

was  subsequently  increased  to  one  hundred  and  later 
to  not  more  than  two  hundred.  It  is  planned  that  all 
States  shall  find  representation  in  the  National  Com- 
mittee. 

The  organization  is  dependent  for  support  upon  vol- 
untary contributions.  Funds  available  for  expenditure 
are  disbursed  under  budgets  prepared  by  the  Executive 
Committee,  approved  later  by  the  Executive  and  Finance 
Committee  acting  jointly,  and  finally  approved  by  the 
Board  of  Directors.  At  the  end  of  each  fiscal  year, 
which  corresponds  with  the  calendar  year,  all  of  the 
accounts  and  vouchers  for  the  year  are  examined  by  a 
certified  public  accountant.  His  report  is  transmitted 
to  the  Treasurer  and,  in  turn,  presented  to  the  Board 
of  Directors  for  approval  and  incorporation  in  the 
records  of  the  National  Committee. 

Officers 

President  Executive  Committee 

Dr.  Walter  B.  James  Dr.  William  L.  Russell, 

Chairman 
Vice-President  Dr   QwEN  Copp 

Charles  W.  Eliot  Stephen  P.  Duggan 

Dr.  Bernard  Sachs  Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald 

Dr.  William  H.  Welch  Matthew  C.  Fleming 

rr  Dr.  Walter  B.  Tames 

Treasurer  ^      n  „  „ 

Dr.  George  H.  Kirby 
Otto  T.  Bannard 

Committee  on  Mental  Deficiency  Committee  on  Education 

Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald,  Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell, 

Chairman  Chairman 

Edith  M.  Furbush,  Statistician 


352 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


Executive  Officers 
Dr.  Thomas  W.  Salmon,  Medical  Director 
Dr.  Frankwood  E.  Williams,  Associate  Medical  Director 
Dr.  V.  V.  Anderson,  Associate  Medical  Director 
Dr.  Clarence  J.  D'Alton,  Executive  Assistant 
Clifford  W.  Beers,  Secretary 


Board  of 

Edwin  A.  Alderman,  Charlottes- 
ville, Va. 
Dr.  Pearce  Bailey,  New  York 
Otto  T.  Bannard,  New  York 
Dr.  Lewellys  F.  Barker,  Baltimore 
Dr.  Frank  Billings,  Chicago 
Dr.  George  Blumer,  New  Haven 
Dr.  G.  Alder  Blumer,  Providence 
Dr.  Samuel  A.  Brown,  New  York 
Dr.  C.  Macfie  Campbell,  Boston 
Russell  H.  Chittenden,  New  Haven 
Dr.  L.  Pierce  Clark,  New  York 
Dr.  William  B.  Coley,  New  York 
Dr.  Owen  Copp,  Philadelphia 
Dr.  Charles  L.  Dana,  New  York 
Charles  B.  Davenport,  Cold  Spring 

Harbor,  N.  Y. 
Stephen  P.  Duggan,  New  York 
Charles  W.  Eliot,  Cambridge 
Dr.  Walter  E.  Fernald,  Waverley, 

Mass. 
Matthew  C.  Fleming,  New  York 


Directors 

Homer  Folks,  New  York 
Dr.  C.  Floyd  Haviland,  Middle- 
town,  Conn. 
William  J.  Hoggson,   Greenwich, 

Conn. 
Dr.  Walter  B.  James,  New  York 
Dr.  George  H.  Kirby,  New  York 
Samuel   McCune   Lindsay,    New 

York 
Dr.  Stewart  Paton,  Princeton 
Mrs.  Charles  C.  Rumsey,  Wheat- 
ley  Hills,  N.  Y. 
Dr.   William   L.   Russell,   White 

Plains,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Bernard  Sachs,  New  York 
Anson     Phelps     Stokes,     Lenox, 

Mass. 
Victor  Morris  Tyler,  New  Haven 
Mrs.  William  K.  Vanderbilt,  New 

York 
Dr.  William  H.  Welch,  Baltimore 
Robert  M.  Yerkes,  Washington 


Members  other  than  Directors 


Mrs.  Milo  M.  Acker,  Hornell,  N.  Y. 
Jane  Addams,  Chicago 
Dr.  Herman  M.  Adler,  Chicago 
Harriet  Bailey,  Bangor,  Me. 
Dr.  Charles  P.  Bancroft,  Concord, 
N.  H. 


Dr.  Albert  M.  Barrett,  Ann  Arbor, 

Mich. 
David  P.  Barrows,  Berkeley,  Cal. 
Dr.  Clara  Barms,  West  Park,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Hermann  M.  Biggs,  New  York 
Dr.  Robert  H.  Bishop,  Cleveland 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


353 


Dr.  Malcolm  A.  Bliss,  St.  Louis 
Dr.  Rupert  Blue,  Washington 
Dr.  E.  D.  Bondurant,  Mobile,  Ala. 
Dr.  Edward  N.  Brush,  Baltimore 
William  H.  Burnham,  Worcester 
Nicholas    Murray    Butler,    New 

York 
Dr.  Louis  Casamajor,  New  York 
F.  Stuart  Chapin,  Northampton, 

Mass. 
Dr.  Edmund  A.  Christian,  Pon- 

tiac,  Mich. 
Dr.  George  W.  Crile,  Cleveland 
Dr.  Harvey  Cushing,  Boston 
Dr.    George   Donohoe,    Cherokee, 

Iowa 
Mrs.  William  F.  Dummer,  Chicago 
Dr.  David  L.  Edsall,  Boston 
Dr.  Charles  P.  Emerson,  Indian- 
apolis 
Dr.  Haven  Emerson,  New  York 
Dr.  Livingston  Farrand,  Ithaca 
Elizabeth  E.  Farrell,  New  York 
W,  H.  P.  Faunce,  Providence 
Katherine  S.  Felton,  San  Francisco 
John  H.  Finley,  New  York 
Dr.  J.  M.  T.  Finney,  Baltimore 
Irving  Fisher,  New  Haven 
Raymond  B.  Fosdick,  New  York 
Lee  K.  Frankel,  New  York 
Dr.  Charles  H.  Frazier,  Philadel- 
phia 
Dr.  C.  Lincoln  Furbush,  Philadel- 
phia 
Francis  D.  Gallatin,  New  York 
Dr.  Arnold  Gesell,  New  Haven 
Dr.  Bernard  Glueck,  New  York 
D.  J.  E.  Goldthwait,  Boston 
Dr.  S.  S.  Goldwater,  New  York 


Dr.  Menas  S.  Gregory,  New  York 
Arthur  T.  Hadley,  New  Haven 
Dr.  Arthur  S.  Hamilton,  Minnea- 
polis 
Learned  Hand,  New  York 
Mrs.   E.   Henry  Harriman,   New 

York 
Dr.   Harley  A.   Haynes,   Lapeer, 

Mich. 
Dr.  William  Healy,  Boston 
Dr.  Arthur  P.  Herring,  Baltimore 
Frederick  C.  Hicks,  Cincinnati 
Charles  W.  Hoffman,  Cincinnati 
Dr.  L.  Emmett  Holt,  New  York 
Franklin  C.  Hoyt,  New  York 
Surg.  Gen.  M.  W.  Ireland,  Wash- 
ington - : 
Mrs.  William  James,  Cambridge 
Mrs.  Helen  Hartley  Jenkins,  New 

York 
Harry  Pratt  Judson,  Chicago 
Dr.  Charles  G.  Kerley,  New  York 
Franklin  B.  Kirkbride,  New  York 
James  H.  Kirkland,  Nashville 
Dr.  George  M.  Kline,  Boston 
Dr.   Augustus   S.   Knight,   Glad- 
stone, N.  J. 
Julia  C.  Lathrop,  Rockford,  111. 
Burdette  G.  Lewis,  Trenton,  N.  J. 
Adolph  Lewisohn,  New  York 
Ernest    H.    Lindley,    Lawrence, 

Kansas 
Dr.    Charles    S.    Little,    Thiells, 

N.Y. 
Dr.  William  F.  Lorenz,  Madison, 

Wis. 
Tracy  W.  McGregor,  Detroit. 
George    P.    McLean,    Simsbury, 
Conn. 


354 


A  MIND   THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


Henry   N.    MacCracken,    Pough- 

keepsie,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Carlos  F.  MacDonald,  New 

York 
V.    Event    Macy,    Scarborough, 

N.Y. 
Richard   I.   Manning,    Columbia, 

S.  C. 
Marcus  M.  Marks,  New  York 
Maude  E.  Miner,  New  York 
Dr.  Henry  W.  Mitchell,  Warren, 

Pa. 
Dr.   George  A.  Moleen,  Denver, 

Col. 
Mrs.  William  S.  Monroe,  Chicago 
Dwight  W.  Morrow,  Englewood, 

N.  J. 
Dr.  J.  Montgomery  Mosher,  Al- 
bany 
Dr.  J.  M.  Murdock,  Polk,  Pa. 
J.  Prentice  Murphy,  Philadelphia 
William  A.  Neilson,  Northampton, 

Mass. 
Dr.  Frank  P.  Norbury,  Jackson- 
ville, 111. 
Dr.  Samuel  T.  Orton,  Iowa  City 
William  Church  Osborn,  New  York 
Harry  V.  Osborne,  Newark,  N.  J. 
Dr.  Herman  Ostrander,  Kalamazoo, 

Mich. 
Dr.  William  H.  Park,  New  York. 
Dr.  Hugh  T.  Patrick,  Chicago 
Dr.  Frederick  Peterson,  New  York 
Henry  Phipps,  New  York 
Gifford  Pinchot,  Washington 
Roscoe  Pound,  Cambridge 
Dr.  M.  P.  Ravenel,  Columbia,  Mo. 
Rush  Rhees,  Rochester,  N.  Y. 
Florence  M.  Rhett,  New  York 


Dr.  Robert  L.  Richards,  Talmage, 

Cal. 
Dr.  Austen  F.  Riggs,  Stockbridge, 

Mass. 
Dr.  Milton  J.  Rosenau,  Boston 
Ira  H.  Rothgerber,  Denver,  Col. 
Jacob  Gould  Schurman,  Ithaca 
Dr.  Sidney  I.  Schwab,  St.  Louis, 

Mo. 
Carl  E.  Seashore,  Iowa  City,  Iowa 
Edward  W.  Sheldon,  New  York 
Dr.  H.  Douglas  Singer,  Kankakee, 

111. 
Dr.  Edith  R.  Spaulding,  New  York 
Dr.  M.  Allen  Starr,  New  York 
Dr.  Henry  R.  Stedman,  Brookline, 

Mass. 
Dr.  Charles  F.  Stokes,  New  York 
Dr.  Frederick  Tilney,  New  York 
Howard   B.    Tuttle,    Naugatuck, 

Conn. 
Dr.  Forrest  C.  Tyson,  Augusta,  Me. 
Henry  van  Dyke,  Princeton 
Dr.  Henry  P.  Walcott,  Cambridge 
Lillian  D.  Wald,  New  York 
Dr.  George  L.  Wallace,  Wrentham, 

Mass. 
Dr.  William  A.  White,  Washington 
Dr.  Ray  Lyman  Wilbur,  Stanford, 

Cal. 
Dr.  Henry  Smith  Williams,  New 

York 
Dr.  William  H.  Wilmer,  Washing- 
ton 
Dr.  C-E.  A.  Winslow,  New  Haven 
Arthur  Woods,  New  York 
Robert  A.  Woods,  Boston 
Howell  Wright,  Cleveland 
Dr.  Edwin  G.  Zabriskie,  New  York 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


355 


Members  who  have  died  during  their  term  of  office: 


Elizabeth  Milbank  Anderson 

James  B.  Angell 

Dr.  Henry  B.  Favill 

His    Eminence,    James,    Cardinal 

Gibbons 
Henry  L.  Higginson 
Dr.  August  Hoch 
William  James 


Morris  Loeb 

Dr.  William  Mabon 

Jacob  A.  Riis 

Dr.  Arthur  C.  Rogers 

Dr.  Elmer  E.  Southard 

Robert  W.  Tayler 

Dr.  Walter  Wyman 


V 

The  Canadian  National  Committee  for 
Mental  Hygiene 

102  College  Street,  Toronto 

The  Canadian  National  Committee  for  Mental 
Hygiene  was  founded  at  Ottawa  on  April  26th,  1918. 
Its  objects  and  plans  are  similar  to  those  of  the  National 
Committee  in  the  United  States  and  important  results 
have  been  achieved.  Its  reports  and  other  publications 
may  be  secured  by  writing  to  the  Secretary,  Dr.  C.  M. 
Hincks,  102  College  Street,  Toronto. 

Patron:   His  Excellency  the  Duke  of  Devonshire,  Governor-General 
of  Canada. 

Patroness:  Her  Excellency  the  Duchess  of  Devonshire. 

Officers 

Dr.  Charles  F.  Martin,  President 

Vice-Presidents: 
Lord  Shaughnessy  Sir  Robert  Falconer 

Sir  Vincent  Meredith  Sir  Arthur  Currie 

Sir  Lomer  Gouin  Sir  William  Price 

Sir  George  Burn,  Treasurer 

Finance  Committee 

David  A.  Dunlap,  Esq.,  Chairman 
Sir  George  Burn  John  B.  Holden,  Esq. 

George  H.  Ross,  Esq. 

356 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


357 


Executive  Officers 

Dr.  C.  K,  Clarke,  Medical  Director 
Dr.  Gordon  S.  Mundie,  Associate  Medical  Director 
Dr.  C.  M.  Hincks,  Associate  Medical  Director 
and  Secretary 

Executive  Committee 
Dr.  Colin  K.  Russel,  Chairman 
Dr.  E.  A.  Bott 


Prof.  J.  A.  Dale 
Dr.  A.  H.  Desloges 
Dr.  J.  Halpenny 
Dr.  C.  J.  O.  Hastings 
Dr.  W.  H.  Hattie 
Mr.  Vincent  Massey 
President  W.  C.  Murray 


Major  J.  D.  Page" 
Dr.  C.  A.  Porteous 
Prof.  D.  G.  Revell 
Hon.  Dr.  W.  F.  Roberts 
Dr.  E.  W.  Ryan 
Prof.  Peter  Sandiford 
Prof.  William  D.  Tait 
Rev.  W.  H.  Vance 


Members 

(As  of  October  I,  IQ21.) 


Hon.   George  E.  Amyot,  Quebec 

Dr.  J.  V.  Anglin,  St.  John,  N.  B. 

R.  B.  Angus,  Montreal 

Dr.  George  Anderson,  Toronto 

Hon.  E.  H.  Armstrong,  Halifax 

Adjutant  General  Ashton,  Ottawa 

Lord  Atholstan,  Montreal 

J.  E.  Atkinson,  Toronto 

Adam  Ballantyne,  Toronto 

J.  N.  Barss,  Shawbridge,  P.  Q. 

Dr.  Gordon  Bates,  Toronto 

W.  R.  Bawlf ,  Winnipeg 

E.  W.  Beatty,  Montreal 

Dr.  Gordon  Bell,  Winnipeg 

General  H.  S.  Birkett,  Montreal 

W.  M.  Birks,  Montreal 

Dr.  A.   D.   Blackader,   Montreal 


Hon.  Mr.  Justice  P.  E.  Blondin, 

Ottawa 
Dr.  Edward  A.  Bott,  Toronto 
His  Hon.  Lieut.   Governor  Brett, 

Edmonton,  Alta. 
Dr.  Eliza  Brison,  Halifax,  N.  S. 
Dr.  Horace  L.  Brittain,  Toronto 
Dr.  M.  D.  Brochu,  P.  Q. 
Dr.  Alan  Brown,  Toronto 
Dr.  Peter  H.  Bryce,  Ottawa 
W.  J.  Bullman,  Winnipeg 
Dr.  T.  J.  W.  Burgess,  Verdun,  P.  Q. 
Sir  George  Burn,  Ottawa 
J.  F.  Burstall,  Quebec 
Dr.  A.   D.   Campbell,  Battleford, 

Sask. 
Dr.  E.  P.  Chagnon,  Montreal 


358 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


Hon.    Thomas    Chapais,    Quebec 
Dr.  W.  W.  Chipman,  Montreal 
Dr.  C.  K.  Clarke,  Toronto 
Lindley  Crease,  Esq.,  Victoria,  B.C. 
Dr.  A.  L.  Crease,  New  Westminster, 

B.C. 
Mrs.  C.  Crowe,  Guelph 
Dr.     Winnifred     Cullis,     London, 

England 
Sir  Arthur  Currie,  Montreal 
Rev.  Dr.  George  B.  Cutten,  Wolf- 

ville,  N.  S. 
Prof.  J.  A.  Dale,  Toronto 
George  J.  D'Allaird,  Montreal 
Owen  Dawson,  Montreal 
Rt.  Rev.  A.  U.  De  Pencier,  Van- 
couver 
Dr.  A.  H.  Desloges,  Montreal 
Dr.  F.  E.  Devlin,  Montreal 
Mrs.  Arthur  Drummond,  Montreal 
D.  A.  Dunlap,  Toronto 
Mrs.  D.  A.  Dunlap,  Toronto 
W.    P.    Dutton,    Esq.,   Winnipeg 
Lady  Eaton,  Toronto 
Dr.  E.  M.  Eberts,  Montreal 
Sir  Robert  Falconer,  Toronto 
Dr.  J.  G.  Fitzgerald,  Toronto 
Mrs.  J.  G.  Fitzgerald,  Toronto 
Sir  Joseph  Flavelle,  Toronto 
Sir    Auckland    Geddes,    London, 

S.W.i  England 
Sir  Lomer  Gouin,  Quebec 
Lieut.  Governor  Grant,  Halifax 
Mrs.  W.  L.  Grant,  Toronto 
William  Grayson,  Moose  Jaw,  Sask. 
J.  J.  Greene,  Hamilton,  Ont. 
J.  H.  Grundy,  Toronto 
W.  D.  G wynne,  Toronto 
Dr.  J.  Halpenny,  Winnipeg 


D.  B.  Harkness,  Winnipeg 

Hon.  Mr.  Justice  Harvey,  Edmon 

ton,  Alta. 
Dr.  C.  J.  O.  Hastings,  Toronto 
Dr.  W.  H.  Hattie,  Halifax 
Dr.  C.  M.  Hincks,  Toronto 
Arthur  Hitchcock,  Moose  Jaw,  Sask. 
His  Hon.  Frederick  W.  Howay,  New 

Westminster,  B.  C. 
Dr.    Goldwin   Howland.   Toronto 
Mrs.  A.  M.  Huestis,  Toronto 
Miss  E.  Hurlbatt,  Montreal 
Dr.  Geo.  C.  Kidd,  Brockville,  Ont. 
George  Kidd,  Vancouver 
Lady  Kingsmill,  Ottawa 
Dean  F.  L.  Klinck,  Vancouver 
Mrs.  J.  B.  Laidlaw,  Toronto 
Sir  Richard  Lake,  Regina,  Sask. 
P.  C.  Larkin,  Toronto 
Dr.  F.  E.  Lawlor,  Dartmouth,  N.  S. 
Sir  James  Lougheed,  Ottawa 
Dr.  M.  T.  MacEachern,  Vancouver 
Dr.  J.  A.  Maclean,  Winnipeg 
Dr.  Helen  MacMurchy,  Ottawa 
Prof.  R.  M.  Maclver,  Toronto 
Dr.   G.  W.  MacNeill,  Battleford, 

Sask. 
Rev.  Dr.  H.  P.  MacPherson,  Antigo- 

nish,  N.  S. 
C.  A.  Macgrath,  Ottawa 
W.  H.  Malkin,  Vancouver 
Dr.  G.  H.  Manchester,  New  West- 
minster, B.  C. 
Dr.  Charles  F.  Martin,  Montreal 
Hon.  W.  M.  Martin,  Regina,  Sask. 
Vincent  Massey,  Toronto 
J.  M.  McCarthy,  Quebec 
J.  O.  McCarthy,  Toronto 
Mrs.  Nellie  McClung,  Edmonton 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


359 


A.  M.  McDonald,  Edmonton 
Dr.  D.  Mclntyre,  Winnipeg 
Dr.  J.  G.  McKay,  New  Westmins- 
ter, B.  C. 
Dr.  R.  E.  McKechnie,  Vancouver 
Hon.  J.  D.  McLean,  Vancouver 
Francis  McLennan,  Quebec 
Mrs.  J.  C.  McLimont,  Quebec 
Mrs.  W.  B.  Meikle,  Toronto 
Sir  Vincent  Meredith,  Bart.,  Mon- 
treal 
Lady  Meredith,  Montreal 
W.  R.  Miller,  Montreal 
F.  W.  Molson,  Montreal 
Dr.  A.  G.  Morphy,  Montreal 
H.  H.  Morris,  Vancouver 
Judge  H.  S.  Mott,  Toronto 
A.  Moxon,  Saskatoon,  Sask. 
Dr.  Gordon  S.  Mundie,  Montreal 
Hon.  Dennis  Murphy,  Vancouver 
Judge  E.  F.  Murphy,  Edmonton 
President  W.E.Murray,  Saskatche- 
wan, Sask. 
Sir  Augustus  Nanton,  Winnipeg 
W.  F.  Nickle,  Kingston,  Ont. 
Sir  Edmund  Osier,  Toronto 
Dr.  J.  D.  Page,  Ottawa 
A.  Percy  Paget,  Winnipeg 
Dr.  C.  A.  Porteous,  Verdun,  P.  Q. 
Dr.  E.  J.  Pratt,  Toronto 
Sir  William  Price,  Quebec 
Major  A.  P.  Proctor,  Vancouver 
Dr.  A.  P.  Proctor,  Vancouver 
Rev.  W.  M.  H.  Quartermaine,  Ren- 
frew 
Miss  Helen  Reid,  Montreal 
Prof.  R.  G.  Revell.  Edmonton,  Alta. 
Hon.  Dr.  W.  F.  Roberts,  St.  John, 
N.  S. 


Dr.  Armour  Robertson,  Montreal, 
Bishop  Roper,  Ottawa 
Frank  W.  Ross,  Quebec 
George  H.  Ross,  Toronto 
John  T.  Ross,  Quebec 
C.  W.  Rowley,  Winnipeg 
Dr.  Colin  K.  Russel,  Montreal 
Mrs.  Colin  K.  Russel,  Montreal 
Dr.  E.  W.  Ryan,  Toronto 
Prof.  Peter  Sandiford,  Toronto 
Dr.  M.  M.  Seymour,  Regina,  Sask. 
Lord  Shaughnessy,  Montreal 
Dr.  Francis  J.  Shepherd,  Montreal 
Mrs.  Adam  Shortt,  Ottawa 
Mrs.  Sidney  Small,  Toronto 
Hon.  George  P.  Smith,  Edmonton 
Mrs.  Ralph  Smith,  Victoria 
Prof.  W.  G.  Smith,  Winnipeg 
Christopher     Spencer,    Vancouver 
Dr.  H.  C.  Steeves,  New  Westminster 
Hon.  Mr.  Justice  Stuart,  Calgary, 

Alta. 
Prof.  W.  D.  Tait,  Montreal 
Madame  Jules  A.  Tessier,  Quebec 
Mrs.    Charles  Thorburn,    Ottawa 
Hon.  R.  S.  Thornton,    Winnipeg 
Dr.  John  L.  Todd,  Otawa 
Dr.  Thompson,  Regina,  Sask. 
Hon.  A.  Turgeon,  Quebec 
Rev.  Principal  Vance,  Vancouver 
Bruce  Walker,  Winnipeg 
Miss  Grace  T.  Walker,  Toronto 
Dr.  T.  W.  Walker,  Saskatoon,  Sask. 
Mrs.  H.  D.  Warren,  Toronto 
Hon.    Smeaton    White,    Montreal 
Blake  Wilson,  Vancouver 
Dr.  O.  C.  J.  Withrow,  Toronto 
Dr.  H.  P.  Wright,  Montreal 
Dr.  Henry  E.  Young,  Victoria 


VI 

The  French  League  for  Mental  Hygiene 

99,  Avenue  de  le  Bourdannais,  Paris 

The  French  League  for  Mental  Hygiene  was  founded 
in  Paris  on  December  8th,  1920,  at  a  meeting  held  at  the 
Ministry  of  Hygiene,  under  the  patronage  of  M.  Breton, 
Minister  of  Hygiene. 

Its  objects  and  plans  are  similar  to  those  of  the 
national  committees  previously  established  in  the  United 
States  and  Canada.  Though  this  new  organization 
has  not  yet  secured  a  salaried  staff,  important  work  has 
already  been  done.  A  verbatim  copy  of  the  list  of 
officers  and  members,  as  of  June,  1921,  is  herewith 
presented.  The  active  President  is  Dr.  Toulouse;  and 
the  Secretary  is  Dr.  Genil-Perrin,  who  may  be  addressed 
at  99,  Avenue  de  le  Bourdannais,  Paris. 

Comite  de  Patronage 

President:  M.  L6on  Bourgeois,  president  du  S6nat 

MM.  MM. 

Leredu,  Ministre  de  PHygiene  Paul  Strauss,  S6nateur,  Membre  de 

Raymond  Poincare,   S6nateur,  PAcademie  de  MSdecine 

Membre  de  PAcad6mie  francaise  Painleve,    Deput6,    Membre    de 

Breton,    Senateur,    Membre    de  PAcademie  des  Sciences 

PInstitut,    ancien    Minstre    de  Le  Corbeiller,  President  du  Conseil 

PHygiene  Municipal 

360 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


361 


MM. 

Gay,  President  du  Conseil  General 
Autrand,  Preset  de  la  Seine 
Raux,  Preset  de  Police 
Appell,  Recteur  de  l'Universite*  de 

Paris,  Membre  de  lTnstitut 
Brieux,    Membre    de    PAcad6mie 

francaise 

Bureau 

PrSsidents  d'Honneur: 
MM. 
Justin    Godart,    Depute,    ancien 
Sous-secr6taire  d'fitat  du  Serv- 
ice de  Sant6 


MM. 
Francois   de    Curel,    Membre   de 

l'Academie  francaise 
Daniel     Berthelot,     Membre    de 

lTnstitut  et  de  l'Academie  de 

Mddecine 


Henri  Rousselle,  President  de  la 
Commission  d'Assistance  au 
Conseil  General 

Fredenc  Brunet,  ancien  Depute, 
Conseiller  Municipal 

President: 

Dr.  Toulouse,  Medecin  en  chef  des 
Asiles  de  la  Seine,  Directeur  du 
Laboratoire  de  Psychologie  Ex- 
perimentale  de  l'ficole  des 
Hautes-£tudes 


Vice-Presidents: 

MM. 
Larnaude,  doyen  de  la  Faculty  de 

Droit 
Edmond  Perrier,  Membre  de  l'ln- 

stitut,   Directeur  honoraire  du 

Museum 
Georges    Renard,    Professeur    au 

College  de  France 
Secretaire: 
Dr.  Genil-Perrin,  chef  de  Clinique 

des    Maladies    Mentales    a    la 

Faculte  de  Medicine 

Trisorier 
J.   Lahy,    Chef   de   Travaux   au 
Laboratoire  de  Psychologie  Ex- 
perimentale  de  l'ficole  des 
Hautes-fitudes 


Commissions 


Maladies  generates  et  troubles  men- 
taux — 

President:  Dr.  Klippel 
Alcoolisme — President:  Dr.Legrain 
Enfance  anormale — President:  Dr. 

Roubinovitch 
Travail    professionnel — President : 

M.  J.  Lahy 
Anti  -  sociaux  —  President:      Dr. 

Henri  Colin 


Dispensaires  d'Hygiine  mentale  et 
Services  ouverts — President:  Dr. 
Toulouse 

Assistance  publique  et  Legislation — 
President:  Dr.  Marcel  Briand 

Enseignement  Psychiatrique — Pres- 
ident: Professeur  Dupr6 

Organization  et  Propaganda — Pres- 
ident: Docteur  Antheaume 


362 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


Members  du  Comite  Central 


Mme.  Avril  de  Sainte-Croix,  Pr6- 
sidente  de  1'  "(Euvre  libera- 
trice" 

MM. 

Dausset,  Senateur  de  la  Seine 

Dr.  Debrierre,  Senateur  du  Nord, 
Professeur  a  1'Universite  de  Lille 

Magny,  Senateur  de  la  Seine,  re- 
sident de  la  Commission  de  Sur- 
veillance des  Asiles  de  la  Seine 

Ferdinand  Buisson,  Depute 

Justin  Godart,  Depute,  ancien 
Sous-Secr6taire  d'Etat  du  Serv- 
ice de  Sante" 

Herriot,  Depute^  Maire  de  Lyon 

Rameil,  Depute" 

Bokanowski,  Depute 

Henri  Rousselle,  President  de  la  3d 
Commission  du  Conseil  General 

Chausse,  Conseiller  Municipal, 
rapporteur  general  du  Service 
des  Alienes 

Frederic  Brunet,  Conseiller  Munic- 
ipal 

Dr.  Calmels,  Conseiller  Municipal 

Lalou,    Conseiller    Municipal, 
Rapporteur  general  du  budget 

Henri  Sellier,  Conseiller  G6neral 

Dr.  Navarre,  ancien  Depute" 

Dr.  Doizy,  ancien  Depute,  ancien 
President  de  la  Commission  de 
PHygiene  Publique 


Desmars,  Directeur  de  1' Assistance 
et  de  l'Hygiene  Publiques  au 
Ministere  de  lTnt6rieur 


Dr.  Mourier,  Directeur  general  de 

l'Assistance  publique 
Constantin,  President  du  Comite" 

des    Inspecteurs    generaux    au 

Ministere  de  l'Int6rieur 
Dr.  Rouget,  Medecin  Inspecteur 

general,  Directeur  du  Service  de 

Sant6  du   Gouvernement  mili- 

taire  de  Paris 
Lapie,    Directeur    de   l'Enseigne- 

ment  primaire  au  Ministere  de 

l'Instruction  Publique 
Lefebvre,  Directeur  de  l'Enseigne- 

ment  primaire  de  la  Seine 
Honnorat,  Directeur  a  la  Pr6fec- 

ture  de  Police 
Jouhannaud,  Directeur  des  Affaires 

Departementales  a  la  Prefecture 

de  la  Seine 
Verley,   Sous-Directeur,   Chef  du 

Service  des  Alienes  a  la  Prefec- 
ture de  la  Seine 
Dr.  Cornet,  MSdecin  en  Chef  k  la 

Prefecture  de  la  Seine 
Michel,  Conseiller  a  la  Cour  d'- 

Appel,  Membre  de  la  Commis- 
sion de  Surveillance  des  Asiles  de 

la  Seine 
Reyrel,  Directeur  de  l'Asile  Sainte- 

Anne 
Scherdlin,  Procureur  de  la  R6pub- 

lique 
Rollet,  Juge  du  Tribunal  de  la 

Seine  pour  enfants 
Laroque,    Substitut  du  Tribunal 

pour  enfants 
Meyer,  Substitut  du  Tribunal  de 

la  3d  section 


MENTAL    HYGIENE    MOVEMENT 


363 


Dr.  H.  Bouquet  Eidacteur  medi- 
cal au  Temps 

Yvon  Delbos,  Ridacteur  en  chef 
de  YEre  Nouvelle 

Jean  Finot,  Directeur  de  la  Revue 
Mondiale 

Latzarus,  Ridacteur  en  chef  du 
Figaro 

Victor  Margueritte,  Pr6sident  hon- 
oraire  de  la  SociiU  des  Gens  de 
Lettres 


Larnaude,  doyen  de  la  Faculte"  de 
Droit 

Edmond  Perrier,  Directeur  hono- 
raire  du  Mus6um,  membre  de 
l'Academie  des  Sciences 


MM. 

Aulard,  Professeur  a  la  Sorbonne 

Georges  Renard,  Professeur  au 
College  de  France 

Dr.  Leon  Bernard,  Professeur 
d'hygiene  a  la  Faculte"  de 
m6decine  de  Paris,  membre  de 
l'Acad£mie  de  M6decine 

Dr.  Imbert,  Professeur  de  physique 
biologique  a  la  Faculty  de  m£de- 
cine  de  Montpellier 

Dr.  Calmette,  Sous-Directeur  de 
l'lnstitut  Pasteur,  membre  de 
l'Acad6mie  de  M£decine 

Emile  Fabre,  Administrateur  de  la 
Com£die-Francaise 

Dr.  Georges  Dumas,  Professeur  de 
psychologie  erp6rimentale  a  la 
Sorbonne 

Henri  Pieron,  Professeur  a  l'lnsti- 
tut de  psychologie  de  l'Univer- 
sit£  de  Paris 


MM. 
Lahy,  Chef  de  travaux  au  Labora- 

toire  de  psychologie  exp6rimen- 

tale    de    l'Fxole    des    Hautes- 

fitudes 
Legendre,  Docteur  £s  Sciences 


Dr.  Pactet,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Villejuif,  president  de 
la  Societe  midico-psychologique 

Dr.  H.  Colin,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Villejuif,  secretaire 
general  de  la  Sociite  Clinique  de 
Mtdeclne  mentale 

Dr.  Klippel,  President  de  la  Socittt 
de  Psychiatrie 

Dr.  Antheaume,  President  hono- 
raire  de  V Association  amicale  des 
MSdecins  des  etablissements  pub- 
lics d'alienes  de  France 

Dr.  Toulouse,  Medecin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Villejuif,  rapporteur 
des  projet  de  reforme  de  la 
Societe  medicale  des  asiles  de  la 
Seine 

Dr.  Dupre,  Professeur  de  Clinique 
des  maladies  mentales  a  la 
Faculte  de  mtdecine  de  Paris, 
Membre  de  l'Academie  de  mtde- 
cine 

Dr.  Chavigny,  Professeur  de  Cli- 
nique des  maladies  mentales  a 
la  Facultt  de  medecine  de  Stras- 
bourg 

Dr.  Lepine,  Professeur  de  Clinique 
des  maladies  mentales,  doyen  de 
la  Faculte"  medecine  de  Lyon 


364 


A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 


Dr.  Raviart,  Professeur  de  Clinique 

des    Maladies    mentales    a    la 

Facultt  de  midecine  de  Lille. 
Dr.  Seglas,  Doyen  des  mSdecins 

alienistes  des  H6pitaux  de  Paris 
Dr.    Roubinovitch,    MGdecin    de 

l'Hospice  de  Bicdtre 
Dr.  Marcel  Briand,  m6decin  en 

Chef  de  l'Asile  Sainte-Anne 
Dr.  Vallon,  M&lecin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  Sainte-Anne 
Dr.  Legrain,  Me'decin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  de  Villejuif 
Dr.  A.  Marie,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  Sainte-Anne 
Dr.  Truelle,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  de  Ville-Evrard 


Dr.  Capgras,  Mddecin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Maison-Blanche 

Dr.  Juquelier,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Vaucluse 

Dr.  Simon,  M6decin  en  Chef  de 
l'Asile  de  Vaucluse 

Dr.  Arnaud,  MSdecin-directeur  de 
la  Maison  de  Sant6  de  Vanves 

Dr.  Lalanne,  MSdecin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  de  Mar6ville,  Nancy 
Dr.  Tissot,  Medecin  en  Chef  de 

l'Asile  de  Caen 
Dr.  Genil-Perrin,  Chef  de  Clinique 

a  la  Facult6  de  medecine  de 

Paris 


VII 
DIRECTORY 

OF 

MENTAL  HYGIENE  ORGANIZATIONS 

National — International — State 

United  States  of  America 

The  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 
370  Seventh  Avenue,  New  York  City 

Dr.  Thomas  W.  Salmon,  Medical  Director 

Dr.  Frankwood  E.  Williams,  Associate  Medical  Director 

Dr.  V.  V.  Anderson,  Associate  Medical  Director 

Dr.  C.  J.  D' Alton,  Executive  Assistant 

Clifford  W.  Beers,  Secretary 

Canada 

The  Canadian  National  Committee  for  Mental  Hygiene 
102  College  Street,  Toronto,  Canada 

Dr.  C.  K.  Clarke,  Medical  Director 

Dr.  Gordon  S.  Mundie,  Associate  Medical  Director 

Dr.C.  M.  Hincks,  Associate  Medical  Director  and  Secretary 

France 

The  French  League  for  Mental  Hygiene 
Dr.  Toulouse,  President 
Dr.  Genil-Perrin,  Secretary, 

99j  Avenue  de  la  Bourdonnais,  Paris,  France 

365 


366  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

South  Africa 

National  Committee  for  Mental  Hugiene  of  South  Africa 
(In  process  of  organization:  Address,  Dr.  Marius  Moll,  Bloemfontein, 
South  Africa) 

Cape  Province  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 
Mrs.  E.  H.  Lester,  Honorary  Secretary,  Cape  Town,  S.  A, 


Groups  in  Great  Britain,  Australia,  Holland  and 
several  other  countries  are  interested  in  plans  for  organiz- 
ing National  Committees  for  Mental  Hygiene  or  their 
equivalent. 

Organizing  Committee  of  the  projected  International  Committee  for  Mental 

Hygiene 

Dr.  Stephen  P.  Duggan,  Temporary  Chairman 
Clifford  W.  Beers,  Temporary  Secretary 

370  Seventh  Avenue,  New  York  City 

State  Societies 

Alabama  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  W.  D.  Partlow,  Secretary,  Tuscaloosa,  Alabama. 
California  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Miss  Julia  George,  Secretary,  1136  Eddy  Street,  San  Francisco,  Cal. 
Connecticut  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

39  Church  Street,  New  Haven,  Conn.    Dr.  Wm.  B.  Terhune,  Medical 
Director 

Mrs.  Helen  M.  Ireland,  Secretary 
District  of  Columbia  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In  process  of  organization.    Dr.  D.  Percy  Hickling,  Secretary,  1305 
Rhode  Island  Avenue,  Washington,  D.  C.) 
Georgia  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  N.  M.  Owensby,  Secretary,  Peters  Building,  Atlanta,  Ga. 
Illinois  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

5  North  Wabash  Avenue,  Chicago,  111. 

Dr.  Ralph  P.  Truitt,  Medical  Director 


MENTAL  HYGIENE  MOVEMENT  367 

Indiana  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Paul  L.  Kirby,  Secretary,  88  Baldwin  Block,  Indianapolis 
Iowa  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(Not  yet  active.     Address:  National  Committee,  370  Seventh  Avenue, 
New  York) 
Kansas  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  Florence  B.  Sherbon,  Secretary,  Mulvane  Building,  Topeka,  Kans. 
Kentucky  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In  process  of  organization.    Address:  National  Committee) 
Louisiana  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  Maud  Loeber,  Secretary,  4124  Milan  Street,  New  Orleans,  La. 
Maine  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In  process  of  organization.    Address:  Dr.  F.  C.  Tyson,  Augusta,  Me.) 
Maryland  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

130  So.  Calvert  Street,  Baltimore,  Md.    Dr.  Chas.  B.  Thompson, 
Exec.  Secretary 
Massachusetts  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

1 13 2  Kimball  Building,  18  Tremont  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

Dr.  A.  Warren  Stearns,  Exec.  Secretary 
Michigan  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In  process  of  organization.    Address:  National  Committee) 
Mississippi  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  J.  H.  Fox,  Secretary,  Jackson,  Miss. 
Missouri  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  James  F.  McFadden,  Secretary,  Humboldt  Building,  St.  Louis,  Mo. 
(New  York)  Mental  Hygiene  Committee  of  the  State  Charities  Aid  Asso- 
ciation 

105  East  2 2d  Street,  New  York  City,  George  A.  Hastings,  Exec. 
Secretary 

Mrs.  Margaret  J.  Powers,  Social  Service  Director 
North  Carolina  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  Albert  Anderson,  Secretary,  Raleigh,  N.  C. 
Ohio  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In  process  of  organization.    Address:  National  Committee) 
Oregon  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Professor  Samual  C.  Kohs,  Secretary,  Portland,  Ore. 
(Penna.)  Mental  Hygiene  Committee  of  the  Public  Charities  Association, 

419    South   15th   Street,   Philadelphia,  Pa.,   Dr.  E.  Stanley  Abbot, 
Medical  Director 


368  A  MIND  THAT  FOUND  ITSELF 

Norbert  J.  Melville,  Associate  in  Psychology 

Kenneth  L.  M.  Pray,  Secretary 
Rhode  Island  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  Frederick  J.  Farnell,  Secretary,  335  Angell  Street,  Providence, 
R.I. 
Tennessee  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

C.  C.  Menzler,  Secretary,  Nashville,  Term. 
Virginia  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

Dr.  William  F.  Drewry,  Petersburg,  Va. 
Wisconsin  Society  for  Mental  Hygiene 

(In   process   of   organization.    Address:    Dr.   William   F.   Lorenz, 
Madison,  Wis.) 


Demco,  Inc.  38-293 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSITY 
lil     I      III     | 

0032411707 


